The Grimoire
by The Modern Sorcerer
Summary: Not all things come to pass, some are buried so far beyond the public eye they seem like mere myth. Fate has decreed that these would never see the light of day. But We disagree, here are some of the missing links, the times that could have been, the futures that could unfold - once hidden, now revealed for all. This is the Grimoire of one Harry James Potter.
1. Contents Page

Hello to both my potential and current readers.

I - the Modern Sorcerer - am proud to present to you my _Grimoire_; an anthology of the various ideas and concepts that have taken root within my mind since I started writing.

The following chapters are best described as the early interpretations of the many baby stories I have come up with, and while most of them will never be seen outside of this anthology (lovely word that, isn't it?) as fully grown stories, I am still posting them so that others may enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy my ideas! And should you wish to adopt any of them as your own, then just send me a PM so we can iron out the details.

Happy reading!

**Table of Contents**

**01)** CONTENTS PAGE

**02) **White Magic - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**03) **Talon of the Phoenix - (_Harry Potter__/__X-Men_)

**04) **True Power - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**05) **Whitelighter Rising - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**06) **Potter Heir - (_Harry Potter_)

**07) **Twice-Blessed - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**08) **Deal with the Devil - (_Harry Potter_)

**09) **Knights of the Shining Palm - (_Harry Potter__/__Eragon_)

**10) **Lost - (_Harry Potter__/__Avengers_)

**11) **Black Legacy - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**12) **Number Five - (_Harry Potter__/__I Am Number Four_)

**13) **Drowning - (_Harry Potter_)

**14) **Luminescence - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**15) **Wildfire - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**16) **Fort Olympia - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**17) **Celestial Legion - (_Harry Potter_)

**18) **Starkiller - (_Harry Potter__/__Star Wars_)

**19) **Samael - (_Harry Potter_)

**20) **The Call - (_Harry Potter_/_Underworld_)

**21) **Heart's Desire - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**22) **As One - (_Harry Potter_)

**23) **Sacrifice - (_Harry Potter_)

**24) **Bloodless - (_Harry Potter__/__Twilight_)

**25) **Wolf - (_Harry Potter_)

**26) **Thawing - (_Harry Potter_)

**27) **Sovereign - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**28) **Phoenix - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**29) **Reset - (_Harry Potter_)

**30) **Dominion - (_Harry Potter_)

**31) **Snowfall - (_Harry Potter__/__X-Men_)

**32) **Tainted Blood - (_Harry Potter_)

**33) **To Ashes - (_Harry Potter_)

**34) **Radiance - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**35) **Language - (_Harry Potter__/__Eragon_)

**36) **Uprising - (_Harry Potter_)

**37) **Paragon - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**38) **Resurrection - (_Harry Potter_)

**39) **Angel - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**40) **Rift - (_Harry Potter__/__Torchwood_)

**41) **Bloodlust - (_Harry Potter_)

**42) **Darken the Skies - (_Harry Potter_)

**43) **Mischief - (_Harry Potter_)

**44) **Clash of the Titans - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**45) **Fallen - (_Harry Potter_)

**46) **The Game - (_Harry Potter_)

**47) **Kinesis - (_Harry Potter_)

**48) **Vegas Vacation - (_Harry Potter/X-Men_)

**49) **Shadow of Mine - (_Harry Potter_)

**50) **Vigilante - (_Harry Potter_)

**51) **Mirror - (_Harry Potter__/__Teen Wolf_)

**52) **Pyre - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**53) **Parabatai - (_Harry Potter__/__Mortal Instruments_)

**54) **Traveller - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**55) **Power - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**56) **Tough Love - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**57) **The Book - (_Harry Potter__/__Skyrim_)

**58) **Talon of the Phoenix - (_Harry Potter__/__X-Men_) – _Double post… oops!_

**59) **Overlord - (_Harry Potter__/__Overlord_)

**60) **Odd Potter - (_Harry Potter_)

**61) **Turner - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**62) **Chosen of Frost - (_Harry Potter__/__Rise of the Guardians_)

**63) **Mascot - (_Harry Potter__/__Warehouse 13_)

**64) **Incandescent - (_Harry Potter_)

**65) **Blank - (_Harry Potter_)

**66) **Oracle - (_Harry Potter__/__Charmed_)

**67) **Storybrooke - (_Harry Potter__/__Once Upon a Time_)

**68) **Amber - (_Harry Potter_)

**69) **Darkness - (_Harry Potter_)

**70) **The Squib-Who-Lived- (_Harry Potter_)

**71) **Deadline - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**72) **Maleficar - (_Harry Potter_)

**73) **PLAGIARISM NOTICE

**74) **Memories - (_Harry Potter__/__X-Men_)

**75) ****Endless Night - (**_**Harry Potter**__**/**__**Charmed**_**) – **_**Posted.**_

**76) **Jump - (_Harry Potter_)

**77) **Champion - (_Harry Potter__/__Percy Jackson_)

**78) **Summer Holidays - (_Harry Potter_)

**79) **Cambion - (_Harry Potter_)

**80) ****Ignition - (**_**Harry Potter**_**) – **_**Posted.**_

**81)** Paws - (_Harry Potter_)

**82)** Changeling - (_Harry Potter/Percy Jackson_)

**83)** The Sorcerer - (_Harry Potter_)

**84)** Ritual - (_Harry Potter_)

**85)** Corvinus - (_Harry Potter/Underworld_)

**86)** Sorry - (_Harry Potter_)

**87)** Wake-Up Call - (_Harry Potter_)

**88)** Chills - (_Harry Potter_)

**89)** Speaker - (_Harry Potter_)

**90)** Potions - (_Harry Potter_)

**91)** Frostbite - (_Harry Potter_)

**92)** Collar-Full - (_Harry Potter/White Collar_)

**93)** Mr. Sparks - (_Harry Potter/Percy Jackson_)

**94) **Psyche - (_Harry Potter_)

**95)** Titan - (_Harry Potter/X-Men_)

**96)** Touch - (_Harry Potter_)

**97)** The Hunt - (_Harry Potter_)

**98)** Masons - _(Harry Potter/X-Men)_

**99) **Primal - _(Harry Potter/Buffy the Vampire Slayer)_

**100) **Gifted - _(Harry Potter)  
_

**101)** Chimera - _(Harry Potter/Charmed)_

_**Please keep in mind that I own nothing found in any of the previews in this anthology.**_


	2. White Magic

**White Magic** – Harry Potter/Charmed.

* * *

"HARRY POTTER!"

The fourteen-year-old in question swallowed nervously as he stood, heading towards the door to the tent hesitantly, mentally trying to convince himself that while running away and hiding _sounded_ like a good idea, Dumbledore and the other idiots would find him and drag him back to face a prime example of a deadly predator.

Leaving the tent and following Professor McGonagall's gestured directions, Harry quickly found himself stepping into a rocky arena as the crowd reacted violently, a mixture of booing and cheers being thrown at him as Harry focused on the task at hand and on _not_ pissing himself at the sight of the hulking spiked brown dragon perching in the centre of the arena. A soft whimper slipped from between his lips as the Hungarian Horntail noticed his presence and lowered its head to the ground, its tail lifting into the air threateningly as the beast wiggled in a way that reminded Harry of a kitten stalking its prey.

Realising the reason for the analogy suddenly, Harry dove for the closest boulder as the Horntail opened its mouth and twin streams of fire erupted from the back of its throat. Flinching as the flames buffeted the boulder with enough heat that he felt like tearing his clothes off and bathing in ice water, Harry quickly pulled his wand and murmured the spell while making the gesture, waiting for the cone of fire to vanish before jumping out from behind cover, pointing his wand at the castle he could see in the distance.

"_ACCIO FIREBOLT_!" he screamed, pushing as much power into the spell as he could, trying to keep the image of his Firebolt clear in his mind.

Movement made Harry throw himself to the side again, the Horntail's almost forgotten tail slamming into the ground where he had just stood, leaving him to scramble back behind cover as the crowd cheered loudly and cruelly for the dragon. "Let's see if I help you ungrateful bastards again if you're gonna act like this then," Harry muttered darkly under his breath as another stream of fire slammed into his cover.

As the sound of a broom whistling through the air reached his ears, Harry risked peeking out from behind his rock in time to see the Horntail release a jet of fire straight into the path of his approaching Firebolt, the flaming broomstick dropping from the air and turning into ash within seconds of the intense flames hitting it. Ignoring his whimper and the pain that flashed through his chest at the sight of his broomstick, Harry ducked back behind the rock as he realised something more important than the loss of his godfather's gift.

Without his broomstick, Harry had no plan…

Gulping as he realised his situation, Harry yelped and cowered down as the Horntail's spiked tail slammed into the ground to his side, his wand slipping from his hand and rolling out of sight as Harry blinked dumbly at the spike inches away from his face. As he once more realised he had no plan Harry felt his fear just beginning to drain away, all the other emotions he felt fading as well until all he felt was a strange feeling of serenity and a gentle warmth wrapping around his heart and mind.

* * *

"_Paige," the brunet woman introduced awkwardly, "My name is Paige"._

"_Hmm," Phoebe exhaled, "Another 'P', imagine that," she pointed out to her sister._

_Pausing for a moment to study this woman… her sister… Piper slowly extended her hand, "It's nice to meet you," she greeted politely as Paige grasped her hand._

_Instantly a blue light was shining down on them from the ceiling, the chandelier vibrating as the three Witches felt a comforting warmth and a feeling of serenity raining down on them and wrapping around their hearts and minds._

* * *

As Harry relaxed back against the rock he was hiding behind, he glanced up instinctively, watching silently as a blue light appeared out of nowhere and shone down upon him and filled his body with a feeling of power that Harry had only felt the likes of when holding his wand for the first time.

The dragon's tail crashing into the rock he was leaning against Harry felt a strange sense of bravado coming over him, making him step out and turn to meet wicked yellow eyes as he walked out into the open. Staring down the Horntail as it reared back and opened its mouth, he watched as sparks flickered at the back of its throat, before a cone of concentrated flames surged towards him.

Raising his hand almost lazily, Harry watched as the fire curved around his body, the small almost invisible shield surrounding his body deflecting the danger. The sheer amount of heat and light that the fire was giving off enough to make Harry turn his head away and squint his eyes in pain, as he ignored the screams and cheers echoing around the arena.

Lowering his hand when the fire died off, Harry continued to ignore his surroundings as he studied the golden egg sitting on top of the nest of what he hoped weren't _real_ dragon eggs. Movement made his hand snap up again, the dragon's spiked tail glancing off a shimmering dome that appeared around Harry's body, the fourteen-year-old boy in question still feeling the strange high that had come over him with the blue light. Raising his other hand Harry reached out for the dragon and turned his hands palm down, lowering his hands like he was pushing something down and watching as the dragon let out a startled snarl as it was slammed to the ground by an invisible force, one of Harry's hands making a 'Come here' gesture that caused the golden egg to shoot off the top of the nest and into his hands as he quickly caught it.

Harry blinked in shock as the high vanished sharply, leaving him standing in front of a confused dragon and a deathly silent crowd with the golden egg clutched to his chest. Staring at the slowly standing dragon Harry did the only thing he could think of at the time, he turned and ran for the entrance of the arena, vanishing through the door before anyone, dragon or crowd, could react. Almost slamming into the horrified looking Professor McGonagall, who was just standing there looking at him in shock as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, Harry slid to a stop and clutched the golden egg closer to his chest.

"Did I win?" he blurted, trying not to think about how he had just stood up to a dragon without a wand and won. When Professor McGonagall nodded at him slowly Harry glanced around awkwardly, feeling his cheeks beginning to heat up under the awed stares of the dragon tamers standing near the entrance of the arena. "Uh now what?" Harry asked nervously, Professor McGonagall seemingly snapping herself out of her shock and grabbing his arm, dragging him towards the nearby tent as she muttered something about not having catnip after seven.

Dismissing his Professor's words as his mind playing tricks on him, Harry yelped as Madam Pomfrey sprung out of the darkness of her tent and latched onto him, hauling him into the tent and past three curtained off areas before shoving him down onto the hospital bed in the fourth area.

"What were they thinking?" Pomfrey exclaimed angrily, "_DRAGONS?_ A seventeen-year-old facing a dragon was bad enough Mister Potter! Why would you willingly walk into that arena knowing what was coming?" she demanded before freezing at the results of her magical scans. "And how did you walk out of that arena without as much as a _scratch_?" the Medi-Witch blurted, blinking at him like a deer in the headlights, "And more importantly! How did _you_ walk out of that arena without as much as a scratch? Not even _both_ your parents had a hospital record as high as you have in three years!"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled slowly, as he swallowed nervously at the memory of how he had so easily defeated a dragon, "I really don't know".

* * *

**WHITE MAGIC**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Whitelighter Harry**_**' challenge, this idea is the first of many in my wonderful Grimoire! In it we see Harry with gifts related to those of a special set of sisters belonging to one of my favourite TV shows to date!**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	3. Talon of the Phoenix

**Talon of the Phoenix** – Harry Potter/X-Men.

* * *

There were few things that could truly fight the Nexus.

But one of the only things that could actually defeat it, was its own host. Countless times over the years, the Nexus had survived almost overwhelming odds, only to be forced out by the being hosting it becoming greedy and demanding more power.

And Earth was no different, when the Nexus had arrived on Earth and taken on the name 'The Phoenix' as the closest Earthen equivalent for its species, it had chosen the near-death 'Jean Grey' as its willing host. Thriving in Jean Grey's mind, the Nexus found itself concerned with the darker aspect of her mind that was growing within the girl.

Directing its power to keep this side of Jean Grey subdued, the Phoenix didn't recognise the presence of another psychic until it was too late.

Finding a large percentage of the power it could access while in a host severely limited, the Phoenix allowed itself to drift back into Jean Grey's subconscious, content to remain quiet and watch her life play out. Watching as she herself thrived at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the Phoenix subtly nudged her towards one of her fellow Mutants, a man whose heart and soul resonated at the same frequency as hers.

_This_ was what the Phoenix lived for. Life. Not for power like some of its previous hosts believed. Jean Grey was perhaps one of the Phoenix's best decisions in the past several thousand years.

And then _She_ happened.

The Dark Aspect of Jean Grey's mind broke through the barriers Charles Xavier had erected around it, wielding the power that the Phoenix had lost trying to subdue Her. And then She _dared_ called herself 'The Phoenix', in a mockery of the Nexus dwelling within Jean Grey. She turned the Nexus' own power against it, locking it away with a mental sneer, the Nexus only barely able to preserve a small part of Jean Grey's mind.

Thankfully that was all they needed. The small shard of Jean Grey managed to break through, she managed to reinstate the Nexus' dwindling faith in Humanity with a mere two words.

"Save Me".

And with both Jean Grey and _Her_ dead, the Phoenix absorbed Jean Grey's consciousness into its own like usual, and cast _Her_ into the afterlife to suffer. It was glad to accept Jean Grey as part of itself, despite all that had been against her the vibrant woman had been just so full of life and joy.

Unfortunately, however, with Jean Grey, it meant the Phoenix no longer had a host. And without a host, the Phoenix couldn't remain on Earth any longer, or its sheer power would destroy the planet as _She_ had wished to do.

Before the Phoenix could leave the planet however, Jean Grey's mind surfaced from within the mass of minds that made it up it's conscious. Before the man's death, Charles Xavier had been following the progress of a developing Mutant in what Humans called England. Gifted with the potential to match Jean Grey's strength, the boy was everything Jean Grey was, and yet was so much more.

It hadn't taken the Phoenix long to decide. Harry Potter was a perfect candidate for being the new host of the Phoenix. For now, however, the Phoenix would need to leave the planet, to give Harry Potter the time to develop naturally.

It would return when Harry Potter was ready, which wouldn't be long considering what was happening up in Scotland right now.

* * *

The last thing Harry had expected when he'd dove into the Veil after Sirius, was to be standing in an unending expanse of _white_.

Looking around for his Godfather, Harry almost sobbed in relief as he spotted the man lying there limply, darting forward to fall to his knees beside him. "Sirius! Sirius wake up!" he begged, rolling the black-haired man over onto his back and shaking his shoulders quickly.

Glancing over his shoulder at the black archway behind him, Harry briefly wondered if there was some kind of time limit for him to drag Sirius out of this place. Freezing as the sound of a strangled cry echoed through the white, Harry looked around slowly, eyes locking onto what looked like a shrunken shrivelled house elf without the ears. Looking between the demon-creature and Sirius, it didn't take any thought at all for Harry to refocus his attention onto his Godfather.

"Sirius, come on Sirius! Wake up!"

"_**He won't wake"**_

Biting back the urge to groan at the ethereal voice, unable to stop the flashback to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry instead scrambled over his Godfather to stand between Sirius and the _spirit-being-presence_ he could sense in front of him.

"_**I will not harm you Harry Potter"**_

"Thank you," Harry bit out slowly, hands flexing as he realised that he no longer had his wand on him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll just be taking Sirius and leaving if you don't mind".

As the words escaped his mouth Harry blinked in shock, wondering when the bloody hell he'd started speaking like Malfoy of all people. Stiffening as a haunting laugh echoed through the white, Harry watched as a swirl of unearthly fire-like power appeared where his whispering magic claimed the spirit was located, the power taking a humanoid form before the fire died out suddenly and left a familiar person standing in its place.

"Mum?"

"_**No, Harry Potter"**_ the spirit denied simply, "_**This form is that of my previous host, a Human woman by the name of Jean Grey"**_

Swallowing painfully, Harry just nodded, not knowing what to say or whether he should say anything that all. "Where am I?" he blurted, the sound of the creature beginning to cry again pulling both his and 'Jean Grey's' attention aside for a moment.

"_**You are beyond the Veil. A gate to what Humans call a pocket dimension, inhabited by a Beast, a Devourer of Souls,"**_ Jean Grey explained, "_**We do not have long, for the Beast has surely sensed your presence by now, and will be on its way to the door"**_.

"What?" he hissed, quickly stepping over Sirius again and trying to lift him up, a whimper escaping his lips as he realised it felt like someone had used a sticking charm on him. "Please, can you help me?" he exclaimed, looking up at Jean Grey as he hoped his luck would hold out and she _wasn't_ this Beast she spoke of.

"_**I can,"**_ Jean Grey confirmed. "_**I am the being known to Humans as the Phoenix. The Fount of All Life and the Nexus of Psionic Power. It is within my power to take a host, for without one I cannot dwell on a planet for fear of destroying it"**_.

"Wait. Are you asking me?" Harry began nervously, his mind piecing together what she was saying much faster than he normally managed. "I can't be your host; I mean I'm kind of attached to my body. And with Voldemort back I can't just turn my back on my friends".

'The Phoenix' just tilted her head at him curiously, a slight frown gracing her features. "_**Jean Grey likened it to having a presence within her mind, watching her life playing out, like one would watch a movie or read a book,"**_ the 'Fount of All Life' corrected slowly. "_**It is not my desire to possess your body, only to share it. Your body, and your life would remain entirely yours, I would merely be coming along for the ride"**_.

Harry just stared at her blankly, trying to find a difference between possession and having his body 'driven like a car' by the being in front of him. "Would you fight Voldemort?" he found his mouth asking before he could realise where his thoughts were heading, "If I said yes. Would you fight Voldemort? Or would you hurt people?"

"_**I would do neither. I would give you the power to fight this 'Voldemort', but like I said, I would merely be a passenger in your body,"**_ the Phoenix explained, "_**I could not take control over your body unless you gave me express permission. I **_**am** _**the Embodiment of Life, after all, it is not my desire to rid you of yours"**_.

Leaning back onto his heels, Harry studied the emotionless face of the 'woman' in front of him. Wondering what the chances were that he _wasn't_ being screwed over by this Phoenix. "_**With the power boost hosting me would grant you,"**_ the Phoenix continued when Harry didn't speak, "_**You'll have the strength to break through the barrier keeping people from leaving this dimension, you'll be able to escape with your Godfather and stop any more of your friends from getting hurt. You are a very powerful Mutant, Harry Potter, you merely need training and focus"**_.

"Mutant," Harry echoed dumbly, "Those dark creatures with magical powers?" he clarified slowly, thinking back to some of the Daily Prophet articles he'd seen about them.

"_**Mutants are no more dark creatures than Mages are,"**_ the Phoenix sniffed, "_**Both Mutants and Mages are Human after all, only separated by a single gene. Magicals can manipulate a form of energy Humans call 'Magic', while Mutants have various widespread abilities similar to the 'Magical gene'. Most children with both the Mutant and the Magical gene do not survive to birth, their own genetics fighting over the two genes of power, but on occasion someone can be born with complementary genes like yourself"**_.

"Like myself?" Harry repeated as he slowly stood, "But I can't be a Mutant! It would have manifested by now! We studied Mutants in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I would know by now".

"_**Unless a certain meddling old Wizard placed suppressing blood wards around the place you were raised,"**_ the Phoenix pointed out coldly, a flash of anger crossing her face. "_**When he realised what you were, he did all he could to suppress it, tying blood wards that drained your magic to block your mutation from manifesting. They didn't work of course, merely slowing the gene from awakening, but they managed to force your magical core to grow larger than expected. Why do you think you've been so angry recently? You're picking up on Voldemort's anger through the psychic link the two of you shared"**_.

"If I give you permission, would you take control of my body and destroy Voldemort?" Harry asked without thinking, "If I give you my body, could you stop him?"

"_**If you gave me your permission,"**_ the Phoenix promised as she strode forward, standing opposite him on Sirius' other side.

"And that's it right?" he asked hesitantly, "You would defeat Voldemort and help me train my Mutation? That's all?"

"_**I can grant you so much more,"**_ the Phoenix offered, "_**I could lead you to the one whose soul resonates with your own? I could show you how to become rich? Famous?"**_

"I'm already rich," Harry denied quickly, "And I'm already famous. And I'd rather just have my family back than be either. And I know you can't resurrect the dead," he added hastily as the Phoenix frowned at him. "I wasn't going to ask. I'm just saying I don't want that".

"_**Are we in agreement then?"**_ Phoenix asked slowly as she stepped forward to offer her hand.

Harry stared at her hand for a moment, taking a deep breath as he glanced down at his Godfather. "Yes. We're in agreement," he agreed, slowly reaching out to grasp her hand which felt like it was on fire, yet didn't burn him.

"_**In return for hosting me. I will aid you in your war against Voldemort, aid you with your psionic powers, and lead you to your soul-mate,"**_ the Phoenix declared formally as the warmth began spreading up Harry's arm rapidly.

"Wait what?" he blurted as he caught onto what she had added on the end of the agreement. Before he could pull his hand away however, the Phoenix was exploding into the same fire from before seconds later, being absorbed into his body as what felt like burning lava spread through his veins and into his mind.

"_**May I have control Harry Potter? Your Voldemort is standing outside the entrance to this dimension,"**_ the Phoenix requested politely.

"Yeah. You can have control," Harry agreed instantly, a wave of dizziness washing over him before he was suddenly looking through his eyes as if he was an outsider. "_Make him pay for what he's done"_.

"**So I shall"**

* * *

**TALON OF THE PHOENIX**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Call of the Heart'**_** challenge, I'm proud to present this as the second idea in my Grimoire. As I'm sure you noticed Harry has been given a deal by a fiery being known only as the 'Phoenix' that has promised to help him in exchange for a big favour.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, as more ideas are sure to come!**


	4. True Power

**True Power** – Harry Potter/Charmed.

* * *

"_Harry._

_My beautiful son._

_I sit here writing this letter as you sleep in your crib mere feet away from me._

_I love you with all my heart and soul, and if I'm still alive then your mother and I would have already told you this. But if we're both dead like your mother foresaw, then I'm sorry that you have to discover something like this through a letter._

_I'm not your real father-"_

Harry pulled a face as he stopped reading the letter there, lowering it to his chest as he stared at the ceiling silently, his mind racing as he once more tried to figure out if there was any hidden meaning to his father's words. He had been reading and re-reading this letter all day, ever since he had received it at 12:01am the morning of his sixteenth birthday, and despite how much he had hoped they would the words hadn't changed at all.

James Potter wasn't his father.

"_-Enclosed in this envelope is a potion... I want you to take it... it'll remove the glamour your mother and I placed over you and reveal your real appearance-"_

Was Lily Evans even his real mother? After all James Potter wasn't his real father and he had grown up under a glamour that was hiding his real looks. So why not just add one more falsehood to his life? Maybe he really was a delusional attention-seeking brat like the Daily Prophet had until recently been claiming? Maybe he was the Heir of Slytherin? Or maybe he had sinned in a past life and he was in Hell right now?

It definitely felt like Hell to him...

Rolling onto his side Harry folded up the letter and slipped it back under his pillow with his wand, staring at the pearl-white potion sitting in the vial on his bedside table, the moonlight making it glow brightly. Reaching out slowly Harry grabbed the vial and rolled onto his back, letting his mind wander as he considered just taking the potion. On one hand it could be a trap and he'd die of poison, on the other hand it could be telling the truth and he could escape the Wizarding world with a new appearance and never look back. Either way in Harry's mind he would be free from this life, and while he'd rather _not_ die it was definitely better than being the Wizarding world's scapegoat and plaything.

Moving without thinking about it Harry sat up and uncorked the potion, tipping it back and forcing the thick slime-like potion down his throat as he swallowed. Exhaling sharply as he felt the surprisingly warm potion settling in his stomach he groaned at the wave of pain that radiated through his body.

"Oh... poison... lovely" he murmured dumbly. The potion _had_ been waiting in a private vault at Gringotts for around fifteen years now that he thought about it, it had probably gone off years ago.

As the vial fell from his fingers and bounced off his bed, shattering on the floor, Harry felt his world spinning, collapsing back onto the bed and blinking up at the ceiling as his vision blurred and shifted until a surge of pain knocked him straight out.

* * *

It was a confused Harry Potter that woke the next morning, lying on top of the bed, feeling like he wasn't in his own body. Shifting slowly he reached out to grab his glasses, his hand slapping across the empty bedside table as he tried to squint through the blur and look around the room for the reason he felt so out of place.

Groaning as he realised he had lost his glasses, Harry brought his hands up to rub at his eyes, jumping in shock as his hand knocked said glasses off his face and everything became clear. "Whoa," he exhaled slowly, picking his glasses up and testing to make sure that he truly didn't need them anymore, "This… this is weird," he mumbled as he rolled out of bed and froze at the sound of crunching glass, years of experience making him lift his foot automatically and look down to see a shattered potion vial on the floor. Eyes widening as he suddenly remembered what had caused him to go to sleep on the of the blankets and fully dressed, Harry lunged for the wardrobe and threw it open, staring into the tall broadly built blonde reflection gazing back at him.

Instantly Harry felt a pang of relief at the sight of his emerald green eyes, glad that he hadn't lost them like he had the rest of his old appearance. Apparently he looked just as much like his real father as the glamour had looked like James Potter since he could find nothing in his face that once belonged to James. His hair was now dirty blonde and went down past his shoulders, something Harry attributed to never having cut his real hair before (something he _definitely_ planned on changing) and his face was more rugged and masculine than its old round and angled shape. He was taller and more… well… built than before, something he once more believed was due to the fact that this body had never been underfed and locked in a cupboard before.

Staring at his reflection for a moment longer, studying and memorising his true face Harry felt a sense of urgency coming over him. He needed to pack his things and get to Gringotts for his gold, and then get out of the Wizarding world, and perhaps out of Britain as well.

But first? First he needed a haircut and shower, _then_ he could pack and make a run for it.

* * *

Smoothing down the front of his school shirt Harry started down the stairs, Dudley was spending the weekend away at a friend's and Vernon was at work, so this was his only chance to talk to Petunia properly and get some answers before he had to leave.

Listening to the sounds of the house he quickly heard her puttering around in the kitchen, walking towards the room nervously and stepping into the doorway as he watched her making herself a cup of tea. He'd never like his aunt, but she was still exactly that. She _had_ taken him in when she had no reason to, she had made sure he had food every night and had occasionally slipped him a full meal whenever she could get away with Vernon or Dudley not noticing. She'd also been the one to stop Vernon from beating Harry, something he now knew was due to a fear that the Wizards would find her but was still something that she hadn't needed to do but done anyway.

He wouldn't miss her, but part of him still cared.

Clearing his throat to get her attention he watched Petunia turn to shoot the door an annoyed look (clearing ones throat had always annoyed her for some reason), freezing as her eyes widened at the sight of him as the mug slipped straight through her fingers and shattered on the kitchen floor. "Leo," she whispered slowly, hand coming up to rest on her heart, "I never realised you looked so much like him," she admitted softly, moving back to lean against the counter and study him, apparently already knowing exactly who he was despite his change in appearance.

Harry felt all his pre-planned conversation topics go down the drain at such a simple statement.

"You knew?" Harry blurted in shock, his mind racing with hundreds of new questions as he wanted to do a Hermione and just babble them all out.

Leo... Leo was his father's name?

"Of course I did," Petunia said quietly, still staring at him, "I take it you know the truth now?" she asked haughtily, sniffing as she raised her chin stubbornly.

"I know that James Potter wasn't my father," Harry confirmed, "That he and Mum split up and she had a one-night stand with an old friend of hers. That his name is apparently Leo".

"And what was Leo?" Petunia pressed making Harry falter and frown.

"A Muggle?" Harry asked hesitantly, his aunt raising her eyebrow at him and making him scramble to pull the letter out of his pocket. "All it says here is that '_Since your birth father wasn't a_ _Wizard_', so I'm guessing he was either a Muggle or a Squib," he admitted.

"He wasn't" Petunia denied. "Come with me," she ordered, stepping over the broken cup and leading him up the stairs to the hatch to the attic, pulling it down and climbing up the ladder into the dark and dusty room. "There," she instructed, pointing a bony finger at the one chest that _wasn't_ covered in dust, when he paused and eyed her suspiciously she just jerked her head towards it as she knelt down to pull up the ladder again, leaving them alone in the attic.

Refusing to turn his back on her Harry moved across the attic cautiously, crouching down near the chest and opening it before feeling his jaw drop at what was inside. Reaching it he pulled out a thick black book, glancing beneath it to the knives and candles inside. "He was a Wiccan," he realised in shock, turning to stare at his aunt who was watching him with an expression that he didn't recognise, "My real father was a Wiccan".

"Actually he was an Angel," Petunia corrected, "That chest. It's mine".

Harry felt himself drop back onto his ass as he stared at her, "You're a Wiccan?" he whispered slowly, "And you've been treating me like crap all these years because what? You've been jealous?" he demanded, feeling anger rising up to replace the shock.

"Of course I was jealous," Petunia snapped making him flinch back, "Your mother was so beautiful, she had breathtaking red hair and heart stopping green eyes," she exclaimed, "And then as if _that_ wasn't enough, she was a Witch of two worlds. Born with the ability to access both Arcane _and_ Wiccan magic, as well as having the gift of Premonition, the ability to see the future," she clarified.

"Generations of Evans Witches have been without a magical power, gifted only with unparalleled talent in the art of Divination," she explained, "And then your mother comes along with not only _one_ gift but two! Of course I was jealous, how could I be anything but? But that didn't matter to me, Lily was my sister," Petunia continued as she wandered over to stare out the small window in the attic. "She was my baby sister, and I loved her with all my heart. Then our parents were killed by a Warlock that was after _her_ powers and when Leo, the family Whitelighter showed up he didn't even notice me as he went straight to her. She was the reason our parents died, and then she stole the man she knew I loved".

"Mum stole your boyfriend?" Harry exhaled, realising that Petunia was fully in the right to hate him if that was the case.

"No".

Or not...

"I loved Leo yes, but he never felt the same way about me," Petunia admitted, "But I was grieving and I saw the man I loved going to the girl who in my grief I wrongly labelled as having everything. We had an argument and I left, I never got the chance to apologise to her," she added in a whisper.

"Lily and I went separate ways that night," Petunia continued, "I went to Vernon and she fell into Leo's arms, and in our grief we both made a terrible mistake".

"Dudley and I," Harry realised nervously.

"Don't get me wrong, I love my Dudley," Petunia sniffed out, "But he was never planned. Vernon took advantage of my grief and we slept together, months later I discovered I was pregnant and Vernon and I announced a 'surprise engagement', that we had kept it a secret for a while since it wasn't proper to announce such a thing so soon after my parent's deaths. When Lily and that Potter boy showed up at the wedding and Lily took me to the side we both had the same news, we were getting married to someone we didn't love because we were pregnant".

"Mum didn't love D- Potter?" Harry asked shocked.

"Oh no, she did," Petunia corrected, "Maybe not as much as she loved Leo but she cared for James like I cared for Vernon, she grew to love him as he promised to take care of her and you despite the fact you weren't his own child".

"Did Leo even know about me?" Harry asked quietly.

"No. The next morning they realised what they had done and regretted it. It's forbidden for a Whitelighter to be with a Witch after all," she explained, "He reported himself and they transferred him away, we never got a replacement because there were but two of us and since Lily claimed that it was Potter's child the Elders didn't look twice at you while she and Potter bound your powers and put you under a glamour".

Harry slowly reached out and closed the chest of Wiccan supplies, "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, "Why did you lie to me and treat me like crap all these years?"

Petunia sniffed again before turning to face him, "I promised Lily that I wouldn't tell you of magic until magic sought you out," she claimed, "And then when you were dumped on my doorstep like a bottle of milk Dumbledore set up blood wards around the property, wards that tied the two of us to this place, completely derailing my plans to divorce Vernon and leave with Dudley. Forgive me," she spat, her words dripping with venom in a way that would make Snape quail, "If I became bitter after being stuck with Vernon for fifteen years longer than _anyone_ should have to suffer".

Harry blinked slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the library's worth of information he had been given in the last twenty four hours. James Potter wasn't his father? His Aunt was actually a Wiccan? Said Aunt was trapped her by the blood wards as much as he was and wanted to divorce his Uncle and leave? _He_ was a Wiccan as well?

Wait... _was_ he a Wiccan as well? And if his real father was a 'Whitelighter' then was he part Whitelighter too?

"Yes," Petunia ground out as he verbalised that thought, "Lily and I kept contact through owls and she reported that occasionally she would teleport through orbs, the same way that Leo would appear. According to her you had some of _his_ powers, which is why they ended up binding them, to keep you safe since if the Elders found out about you they would recycle your soul".

"They would _what_?" Harry exclaimed angrily, hands twitching for the wand he had stupidly left in his bedroom as he glanced around cautiously.

"They can't do it now," Petunia assured him, "You've been born so they can't touch you. But Demons and Warlocks can, a hybrid is worth a lot of risk, a risk that would be worth it if they managed to kill you and steal your powers".

"They want to kill me and steal my powers?" Harry repeated before letting out a slow groan as he ran his hand through his new short blonde hair, "Great! They can just get in line!" he exclaimed, "It's not like I don't have enough people trying to kill me now as it is without adding in Demons and Warlocks! Which by the way I didn't know existed until now," he added hysterically.

"Harry!" Petunia snapped making him freeze at the sound of his _name_ coming from her instead of 'Boy' or 'Freak'. "Calm down and pack your things," she ordered slowly, "Meet me in the living room in an hour".

"What?" Harry asked dumbly as Petunia opened the hatch and made to leave the attic.

Petunia turned to fix an annoyed look on him, "With a source of power like I imagine you are in this house Demons and Warlocks will be drawn here," she explained slowly, "To keep Innocents safe we need to leave. And since we both wanted to leave in the first place I think everyone wins".

Harry felt his jaw dropping as Petunia disappeared down the ladder, leaving him staring at the hole in the ground in shock as his mind struggled to deal with this added bombshell to his already unstable life.

Ears ringing with the sound of everything he thought he knew crashing down around him Harry just sighed and stood up, heading towards the ladder before glancing back to the chest and beginning to drag it over. If Petunia was coming with him then she'd probably want to keep it, maybe he could even talk her into teaching him everything she knew since as it stood the only things he knew about Wiccans were what little the History of Magic book had in between the countless pages about all the dozens of various Goblin rebellions and GOBLINS!

Freezing in place Harry stared into space as he realised that the Goblins could help him!

"Aunt Petunia!" he yelled as he darted down the ladder, "Will you be okay here on your own for a bit?" he asked as his aunt stepped out of her bedroom with an expectantly raised eyebrow. "I'm going to Diagon Alley," he explained slowly, "I don't want to leave my fortune behind do I?"

* * *

**TRUE POWER**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Whitelighter Harry'**_** challenge, this idea is similar to the first in that it is following the same general idea, but it is different entirely from the first in terms of plot an theme.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, as more ideas are sure to come!**


	5. Whitelighter Rising

**Whitelighter Rising** – Harry Potter/Charmed.

* * *

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must".

If this is dying, thought Harry, it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving him…

But was this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus.

Harry frowned slightly in confusion as the pain vanished completely, staring at the frozen form of Riddle standing there with that confident smirk on his face. Hesitantly he got to his feet and looked around; whimpering as he noticed that he had apparently left his body behind on the ground, everything around him frozen entirely like time itself had stopped.

"Time has stopped Harper," a voice admitted making Harry spin around to stare at the blond man standing near Ginny, a black-skinned woman standing next to him in silver coloured robes.

"Uh... who are you?" Harry asked cautiously, mentally muttering about how he wished Harper was his first name instead of Harry since it was _that_ much cooler.

"Your first name _is_ Harper," the man corrected, "And I'm Leo, and this is Erica. We're here to talk to you about something important".

Harry blinked at the two of them slowly before glancing back at his body and then Riddle, "I don't mean to be rude Sir but can it wait? I'm kinda in the middle of something".

Erica let out a musical laugh that had Harry relaxing automatically, his body resisting all orders to continue being suspicious of the two of them. "And that's why he's your favourite Charge isn't it?" she asked Leo knowingly who shifted and blushed slightly.

"He's almost an expert at accidental sarcasm," Leo agreed, "It's pretty impressive for a twelve-year-old".

"Uh excuse me?" Harry called out, "If you two are going to stand there and chat then do you mind?" he asked hiking his thumb towards Riddle, absently brushing off his unexpected rudeness.

"You're right Harper, let's get to business," Erica confirmed, a table and chairs appearing with a wave of her hand that she and Leo sat down at without hesitation. "Take a seat please Harry, we have a lot to discuss," she requested, making Harry slowly move over to sit in the last chair, studying both of them properly.

"I'm going to be blunt with you Harry since I know how much you hate being led in circles," Leo began gently, "Right before Erica here froze time you were mere seconds away from dying from the Basilisk venom in your veins".

Harry felt his stomach dropping at Leo's casual announcement, almost missing it when Erica continued on with "And since you're destined to die at the age of 348 it became necessary for me to intervene to make sure you achieve that destiny".

"348?" Harry blurted in shock, staring at her with his jaw open as he tried to imagine living for 336 more years.

"When you died at the age of thirty-four you were going to be offered the chance to become a Whitelighter, one you usually accepted without hesitation," Erica explained, "You and your wife worked as a Whitelighter couple for three centuries before you decided to retire to the afterlife together".

"My wife?" Harry squeaked out. Harry wasn't even interested in girls though! The other boys in his dorm were beginning to show interest but Harry was more interested in surviving the year.

"Correct. Now since you're obviously not thirty-four my people have contacted Leo's people and have reached an agreement," Erica continued, "Normally you would become a Whitelighter but with your destiny still ahead of you it's impossible to make you a pacifist. Add to that your current age and a lot of things are going to have to change".

"Wait," Harry interrupted quickly before Erica could dive into an explanation, "Who ARE you people? I have no idea what you're talking about!"

The two adults exchanged a look before Erica sighed and nodded to Leo who leaned forward onto the table. "Harper, I am a Whitelighter. Whitelighters are sort of like Guardian Angels, but for Witches".

"I'm not a Witch though, I'm a Wizard," Harry corrected simply.

"Right now you're a Wizard" Leo confirmed, "But you still had a Whitelighter assigned to you since you're so important. Now when I say Witch I don't mean a female Wizard, when I say Witch I mean a practitioner of Wicca. A Wiccan Witch, not a Wizarding one. Do you understand?" Leo asked slowly.

Harry nodded cautiously, one part of him wanting to laugh and dismiss what Leo was saying while the other part of him pointed out the wandless and wordless conjuration of the table and chairs as well as the whole _stopping time_ deal which kind of proved him right.

"And Erica here is an Angel of Destiny, it's her job to make sure that Fate doesn't get ahead of herself and that everything follows the right paths set out for them long before their birth".

"And you want to turn me into a Guardian Angel?" Harry asked sceptically, "I'm twelve, I'm still in school!"

"Actually we want to turn you into _half_ of a Guardian Angel," Erica corrected innocently, "We'll also be tearing out your Wizarding core and replacing it with a Wiccan one since Arcane (The Wiccan term for Wizarding) magic tends to try destroy everything Wiccan and would kill you".

"You're WHAT?" Harry yelled out in shock, "HELL NO!"

"Harper! Let us finish" Leo scolded making Harry's head drop in embarrassment automatically. "Because of the deadly nature of Arcane magic versus Wiccan, we'll be removing your Arcane core. BUT we'll be replacing it with a Wiccan one, a Wiccan core that will allow you to blend in like nothing had changed".

"I'm calling it 'Mana Projection'," Erica announced proudly, "I helped design this power for you so I think you'll like it. Basically what Mana Projection does is mimics an Arcane magical core so you could pick up a wand and start casting without anyone realising that you've changed. Magical scans will register you as a Wizard so you wouldn't have to worry about getting caught and you could still learn things like Occlumency or the Animagus transformation," she explained.

"So the only real change is that it's a Wiccan core instead of a Wizarding one?" Harry realised slowly as his face heated up in embarrassment at how badly he had made a fool of himself.

"Along with that you'll be able to cast Wiccan spells, brew Wiccan potions," Leo added, "And if you treat your powers right and fulfil your destiny there might be more powers in your future like telekinesis or invisibility".

"I've already got an invisibility cloak," Harry mumbled absently.

"Just an example Harper, you're not destined to gain the power of invisibility," Erica corrected with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Now as much as I would like to give you time to think on this we're on a tight schedule. Are there any more questions you want to ask?"

"You said something about my age before?" Harry asked curiously, more relaxed now that he knew that he wasn't losing the one thing that kept him from the Dursleys.

"Ah yes, because of your age the Elders have agreed to make you only half Whitelighter, meaning that you'll continue to age until you die once more. Then you'll become a full Whitelighter and stop aging," Leo explained, "This way you can still live your life how you want to while letting you retain the abilities that I believe will help you a lot in future times".

Harry nodded slowly, his mind racing as he tried and failed to see things from every viewpoint. "What happens if I say yes?" he asked hesitantly, "I mean I'm going to be a Guardian Angel right? That kind of implies I'd have someone to guard".

"And you would," Erica confirmed with a small smile, "Your young friend, Hermione Granger, has quite the impressive destiny ahead of her. One might say that despite her being an Arcane Witch, having a Whitelighter to guide her would be extremely beneficial".

"Hermione?" Harry echoed, "I'd protect her anyway".

"I know," Erica admitted, "Which is why she's the perfect Charge for a beginner. Because you already know and love her you'll be able to learn as you go and you'll do your best no matter what. You will gain other Charges in time but if you accept our offer then your first Charge will be Hermione".

"I do," Harry said softly.

"You do what Harper?" Leo asked curiously.

"Accept," Harry clarified, "I accept your offer to become a Whitelighter and help people".

Harry felt warmth flood his stomach as Leo and Erica beamed at him happily, "Then once you return to your body you'll ascend and gain your new powers," Erica informed him with a huge smile. "Leo here has agreed to being your Mentor, while you guide Hermione he'll be there to guide you and train you in your new powers".

As the three of them moved over to his body Harry was struck by another thought, "Why do you keep calling me Harper by the way?" he asked slowly.

Leo and Erica shot him a confused look, "Because Harper James Potter, it's your name," Leo explained slowly, "Didn't you know that?"

"No, I thought I was just Harry", he admitted.

"Listen to me Harper," Leo said quickly as he knelt in front of Harry and rested his hands on his shoulders, "You will _never_ be 'Just Harry'. You are an amazing young man; one your parents are proud to call 'son'. In fact, I am proud to have been your Whitelighter even though it was only for two years".

Without thinking Harry launched himself forward, throwing his arms around Leo's neck and hugging him tightly. Leo hugged him back with only a small chuckle, "I'm telling the truth Harper, I'll be here for you until the day I die. And then I'll still keep watching over you," he added gently as Harry pulled away with a red face and an awkward expression on it.

"Thank you Sir," Harry whispered slowly, not meeting his eyes as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"Leo," he corrected, "I want you to call me Leo. In fact, I want you to call me whenever you need something, whether it's just a friendly face to talk to or trouble with your homework".

"The Dursleys won't let me use the phone," Harry mumbled.

"Actually I meant literally just call me," Leo admitted with a grin, "You just have to call my name and I'll hear you. It's a Whitelighter thing Harry, you'll hear Hermione calling for you when she needs you".

"Thank you," Harry whispered, embarrassed again before he raised his chin bravely and met his eyes as he straightened his back, "But I would prefer it if you called me Harper".

"Like that name do you?" Leo asked as his grin grew.

"Harry is the quiet nobody from Privet Drive," Harry-Harper declared, "I'm Harper, Guardian Angel and Good Guy... who also happens to be from Privet Drive," he added sheepishly.

"I think I like Harper more," Leo stage-whispered, "Just don't tell Harry".

"I think I can keep it to myself," Harper promised.

"Are you ready now Harper?" Erica asked softly, smiling gently at him as he tried to subtly wipe his eyes.

"I am," Harper confirmed.

"Oh Erica, look," Leo said suddenly, "A distraction!"

A knowing look flashed across Erica's face and she rolled her eyes but still obediently turned to look where Leo was pointing. "Oh really? I don't see it" she drawled sarcastically, "I guess I'm going to have to keep looking until someone tells me it's gone".

Harper bit back a giggle as he realised what Leo was doing, the older Whitelighter leaning in to whisper something in his ear, repeating it until he had it memorised.

"Oh drat, it just left, you must have missed it," Leo said in mock sadness, making Erica turn around with a grin on her face.

"A true shame that, it must have been rather interesting," Erica replied innocently. "Now Harper, place your hand on your body and close your eyes. It's going to be a bumpy ride".

Nodding Harper obeyed her, feeling power surging through his body moments before his was looking up at Riddle as his arm throbbed.

"You're dead Harry Potter," Riddle hissed, "You just haven't realised it yet".

Harper glanced down at his arm in time to see the edges of the fang-hole glow golden before knitting back together, a vortex of blue and white balls of light exploding into life around Harper and beginning the change from Arcane to Wicca.

* * *

**WHITELIGHTER RISING**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Charmed Harry**_**' challenge. Gee me, what's it with all these Charmed crossovers lately? Never mind, I'm sure I'll come up with some ideas that aren't Charmed eventually.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, as more ideas are sure to come!**


	6. The Potter Heir

**Potter Heir** – Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry James Potter stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express silently, hiding his nervousness behind the mask he had constructed years ago as he watched the other families rushing across the platform, leading children, owls, and trunks towards the train to send them off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Harry, you'll be fine you know," came a soft voice from behind him.

Harry turned and shot his father a nervous smile, automatically lowering the aforementioned mask for his family. "I know," he admitted, "But I'm still allowed to be nervous".

"Of course you are," James agreed as he threw himself onto the seat beside Harry. "Anyone who tells you they're not nervous are lying Harry," he explained bluntly, "I was so nervous I was shaking. Your mother was rambling off every spell she knew and you know how hard it is to make _her_ nervous. Sirius kept fidgeting with his hair and Remus kept playing with his wand".

"I get it. Everyone was nervous," Harry exhaled slowly as he moved over to curl up next to his father, relaxing instantly as his father's arm went over his shoulder. "I won't be in Gryffindor you know?" he blurted suddenly, already knowing his father wouldn't care but still wanting to hear the words.

"As long as you're not in Slytherin," James said without hesitation, "And if you _are_ in Slytherin I'm going to hit you with a permanent hair dying spell and you'll be stuck with puke green hair for the rest of your life," he added.

"And I'll use Mum's balding spell on you," Harry countered instantly. "And then myself," he added after a moment's hesitation, "I couldn't stand having _Slytherin_ hair," he joked.

"That's my boy," James praised, "But seriously Harry. No matter what I say, if you go into Slytherin then so be it. You're my son no matter your house, even if we all know you're going into Ravenclaw," he said gently.

"Mum has me well trained," Harry admitted with a happy smile.

"And what of me?" James pressed slowly.

"I've got the cloak and map in my trunk," Harry confirmed as his smile transformed into a smirk, "And multiple copies of the Marauder's list of the best pranking spells as well as the Marauder's journals".

"Excellent," James whispered under his breath, "Remember. First prank of the year?"

"Snivellus," Harry replied immediately, an air of innocence surrounding him as he smiled angelically.

"You'll do me proud," James agreed smugly, "Sirius and I managed to corrupt you good!"

"I think Moony and Mum did it better," Harry corrected, "There's a reason Uncle Remus came up with the best pranks after all. Brains are better than looks".

"And I thank Merlin every day that you got my looks and your mother's brains," James finished before sighing as the train's horn went off. "I've got to go, your mum will be waiting for me at the castle," he muttered as he hugged Harry to his side one more time before unfolding from the seat and smiling at him gently. "Make some new friends," he ordered softly, "If you see a Malfoy make a comment about his father having girl's hair. If you see a Longbottom tell them to hurry up and sit down so you can continue the tradition of the heirs being friends. And if you see a cute girl that makes your world complete then invite them into the compartment and for the love of Merlin don't act like an idiot," he continued.

"So basically don't pull a 'James Potter'?" Harry asked wryly making his father nod before pausing to mock-scowl at him.

"I want to argue with that comment but unfortunately I didn't react well when I met Lily," James pouted, "So yes. Don't pull a 'James Potter' and alienate your Mate," he agreed.

"I promise," Harry said slowly, smiling in a reassuring manner at his father, "Go. Before Mum has a panic attack and ends up hexing your horns again," he teased innocently. He chuckled as a horrified expression flashed across his father's face and James twisted on the spot, apparating straight off the train and to Hogwarts where his mother was teaching this year now that she didn't need to stay home to look after him.

Raising a hand to comb through his short spiked hair Harry relaxed back onto the seat, glancing up at the luggage rack to where he could see a black shape curled up in his cage, his familiar, Enfer, ignoring him for putting him in the cage even if the door was unlocked and the cage itself just for show. "You're going to ignore me until Hogwarts aren't you?" he asked knowingly, the opening of a single green eye before the cat stood and turned his back on Harry all the confirmation he needed, "Stubborn feline," he muttered making Enfer just flick his tail at him.

As the train's final warning sounded Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a book the size of a matchbox, a flick of his wrist extending his wand from his holster before he tapped it on the book wordlessly so the innate enchantment could activate and unshrink the book into his hand, Harry almost dropping it as the sudden increase in size and weight forced his hand down to his lap. Smiling down at the book Harry made himself comfortable as he sheathed his wand and cracked the book open to the bookmarked page, his eyes darting across the familiar words even as his lips mouthed the words silently.

He had a long trip to get to Hogwarts after all.

* * *

Harry's attention was pulled from his book as the compartment door was pulled open and a young red-headed boy looked in, blinking at Harry for only a moment before his eyes rose up to his forehead for a moment and he scowled.

"Hey, do you know where Harry Potter is?" the boy demanded rudely, "I'm his best mate and he promised to hold a compartment for us but I can't find him".

Harry withheld the urge to laugh outright at the snobbish-sounding boy's claim and instead shook his head, "Haven't seen him," he lied bluntly.

The red-head's eyes narrowed at him slowly, "And what's your name then?" he snapped.

"Hadrian," Harry admitted, using his formal name as he stared down the annoying boy. "What's yours?" he asked slowly, wanting to know the boy's name in case of future confrontations.

"Ron. Ron Weasley," the boy replied proudly.

"_Don't trust the Weasleys Harry. The older two are good people, William and Charles. But the other's aren't to be trusted, Molly is Dumbledore's staunchest supporter and Arthur won't stand up to her meaning that she'll have the others trained to follow Dumbledore without hesitation"_.

As his father's words flashed through his mind Harry just inclined his head in the boy's direction, hoping the boy would leave to continue his search for his 'best mate' (And did thinking the term 'mate' about anyone make him feel nauseous or what?).

"Well I'm off, I've got to find Harry before he thinks I've abandoned him," Ron said dismissively before stepping out and slamming the door to the compartment shut and vanishing from sight.

Feeling eyes on him Harry glanced up to Enfer to see two green eyes watching him in amusement. "Don't say anything," he ordered with a scowl, "Mum and Dad warned me I might have to deal with people like him but I wasn't expecting them to be that… _brazen…_," he sneered before shuddering. "I'm going to hex that boy," he realised suddenly, "I'm going to hex him a LOT".

A lazy '_mew'_ from Enfer made him roll his eyes and return to his book, barely getting to read two sentences before someone knocked on the compartment door and it slid open to reveal a familiar face that lit up at the sight of him. "Heya Harry," Neville Longbottom greeted nervously, "Uh, you wouldn't happen to remember the Familiar Calling Charm would you?" he asked hopefully as Harry smiled back at the timid boy.

"_Nota accersi Trevor_**,**" Harry instructed gently, long used to the boy's terrible memory by now, "And once you find it you better bring him and your trunk down here. Brothers should sit together Neville, and I don't think I could forgive you if you tried to pretend you didn't know me by sitting elsewhere," he teased making Neville splutter and blush.

"I'll be back soon," Neville mumbled as he pulled his wand out, and Harry instantly recalled the loud and explosive (Both figuratively and literally) argument Neville's grandmother and Harry's father had had about whether Neville should get his own wand or just use Frank's (His father's). Harry was rather pleased that his father had won that one, having a faulty wand would do nothing for his god-brother's rather fragile self-confidence.

"Neville!" a bushy haired girl exclaimed as she suddenly popped up beside the slightly chubby boy, "There you are! I asked the other side of the train and no one's seen him," she declared.

"It-it's okay Hermione," Neville stuttered, his shyness coming back with full force as he turned to face her, "Ha-Harry told me the spell to summon him again, Gran had him tagged so that spell would work so it shouldn't be hard to find him now".

Harry schooled his amused face clear just as 'Hermione' turned to stare at him intently, her eyes flicking up to his forehead within moments making him resist the urge to make a sarcastic comment at her automatic search for a scar. He knew everyone would be looking for the black-haired green-eyed boy with the lightning scar, he had also already seen that people would take a second look at him but since he apparently lacked the scar and his hair weren't pure black he was 'obviously' not Harry Potter.

"Doesn't Hogwarts have a rule about natural hair colours?" Hermione asked instead of commenting on his so-called 'fame' like he was expecting.

"Huh? Oh uh no, it doesn't," Harry explained as he caught himself quickly, "And this is natural," he added with a challenging eyebrow.

"Black hair with red tips is _not_ a natural hair colour," Hermione corrected with a stubborn look on her face and her hands on her hips.

"It is when your mother is a red-head," Harry countered, "I was born with black hair and the red lightened out as I got older. And I know red hair is not a dominant gene but magic doesn't really care about that," he added figuring this girl was a muggleborn.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before pulling a face, "I'll get back to you once I've done more research," she decided before her eyes dropped down to the book in his hands, "Do you like to read?" she asked as her eyes widened and hope flashed through them.

"If you help Neville catch Trevor and then bring your trunk here with him then we can talk," Harry bartered, recognising both his mother's and his own desire for knowledge in her, "I have some books you might find interesting," he added.

"The Potter Libraries are some of the most extensive in the UK," Neville added absently as his wand was making the small spiral and thrust of the Familiar Calling Charm, "Just after the Black and Lovegood Libraries actually. The Longbottom's are sadly smaller than Hogwarts' one".

"But your family's library has hundreds of unique tomes on Herbology and Duelling," Harry interrupted to counteract Neville's negative attitude, "I still remember Mum bursting into tears when she was told she was allowed to take some of them home to read," he pointed out with a smile that Neville and even Hermione matched.

"I fainted when your Dad gave me one of the only copies of '_Rowena Ravenclaw's Study of Mythical Plants' _in existence like it wasn't worth a fortune," Neville mumbled awkwardly.

"And I still have that picture of you fainting with the shocked look on your face," Harry pointed out. "Now hurry up and find Trevor so you can come sit down," he instructed, "I haven't seen you since our birthdays".

He got the feeling he could trust these two, and he already knew that Neville didn't care that he was Harry Potter, it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine that Hermione wouldn't care either. The only thing he would have to do is make sure that Hermione wasn't racist, he didn't want to lose someone who could be his best friend just because he wasn't Human now would he?

* * *

**POTTER HEIR**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Dark Shadows of the Potters'**_** challenge. See! I told you I could write ideas that weren't Charmed crossovers, this is proof!**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, as more ideas are sure to come!**


	7. Twice-Blessed

**Twice-Blessed** – Harry Potter/Percy Jackson.

* * *

"Mr Potter?"

Harry glanced up from where he was absently picking at the edges of his pyjamas and smiled awkwardly at Madam Pomfrey, the Medi-Witch moving over to stand at the end of his bed and casting a silent spell at his leg and then his arm. "You're healing up quite nicely Mr Potter," Pomfrey assured him happily, "You'll be out of here by lunch at the latest".

"Thank you Ma'am", Harry replied slowly, "Uh, is there any way I could get a book or something? So I have something to do?"

"Of course Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey confirmed with a nod, "Just call for Tipsy and ask her to get whatever you need within reason. Now I don't want to see you out of bed until morning," she continued, "Your leg might be able to handle the stress but I'd rather not risk it".

Nodding, Harry waited patiently for the Medi-Witch to enter her office on the other end of the hospital wing before tentatively calling for the hospital wing's assigned house elf who appeared instantly with a crack and blinked at him with wide eyes expectantly. "Could you please get my DADA book from my bag?" Harry asked Tipsy slowly, watching as the house elf vanished with another crack, waiting for a moment before smiling at the house elf as she reappeared with his book clutched in her hands, "Thank you Tipsy".

"Tipsy is being happy to help young Master," Tipsy said dismissively. "Tipsy… Tipsy has a question young Master" she added hopefully. "Is…" she began when Harry nodded to her politely, "Tipsy heard whisperings when she was cleaning," she admitted in a soft murmured, "Is the Dark Lord really back?"

"Yes," Harry ground out, his right arm throbbing painfully in reminder of what had happened mere hours ago, "Yes he is".

Tipsy let out a horrified whimper and vanished without another word, leaving Harry to exhale slowly and lean back onto his pillows, reaching for the book Tipsy had left near his knee and pulling it onto his lap.

After his 'duel' with Voldemort earlier that night Harry knew he was nowhere near the level of an adult Wizard, meaning he needed to know more spells and needed more practical experience in casting said spells. Despite its previous luck he knew that a simple Expelliarmus wouldn't match up to the kinds of spells that Voldemort and his Death Eaters would be throwing his way, the fake Mad-Eye Moody's motto of 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' flashing through his mind. It didn't matter that it had been a Death Eater that had said it, it was still a good point, unfortunately Voldemort's quote from first year, 'There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it' also came to mind and refused to leave any time soon.

"I'll master this," Harry promised himself under his breath as he opened the book to the page on the 'Stunning Spell', "Next time I'll save you Cedric".

"A noble goal".

"If I hadn't convinced Cedric to take the cup with me then he'd still be alive," Harry countered simply before freezing and slowly looking up to stare at the black-haired woman sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, two glowing purple eyes staring into his emerald-green ones.

"Hello Harry," the woman greeted slowly, tilting her head to the side as she studied him, "Long time no see".

"Uh hi?" Harry replied awkwardly, his hand tightening around his wand as he eyed the woman cautiously, "Who are you again?"

The woman let out a musical chuckle and shook her head, "Oh you've never met me," she denied with a lazy wave of your hand, "But right before the Third Task alone your Godfather has spoken of me, as has the late Cedric Diggory".

"How did you get in here? I saw Madam Pomfrey lock the doors herself, no one can get in unless she lets the-" Harry froze as the only thing he could think of that he had heard both Sirius and Cedric speaking about came to mind, "Unless she lets them or they're Hecate," he corrected slowly.

"_Good luck in the maze Pup," Sirius whispered as they stood opposite each other in the empty classroom, "Hecate guide you"._

"_Lady Hecate give me strength," Cedric muttered under his breath as he and Harry started towards their entrances to the maze._

"You're a Goddess?" Harry blurted in shock as he realised exactly what that meant, "The Greek Gods actually _exist_?"

"If Magic can exist then why can't the Gods?" Hecate countered, "And we've existed long before Magic ever has".

"You're a Goddess?" Harry mumbled slowly, "I'm dreaming. I have to be".

"Of course you're dreaming," Hecate admitted, "You feel asleep when the sleeping spell your Madam Pomfrey cast on you kicked in, you're snoring away with your book on your chest. That's how I'm here, I'm talking to you in your dream, once I leave it'll return to what it was before. Which is, unfortunately, a nightmare".

"Why?" Harry asked looking up from the book he was blinking down at (The book that he now noticed was blank), "Why are you talking to me?"

"Because Harry Potter," Hecate began, "You're a Demigod".

"But I can't be a Demigod! I'm just Harry," he exclaimed.

"Well just Harry, you're a Demigod," Hecate agreed.

"But I can't be a- no we're not getting into that," Harry refused shaking his head, "I don't believe you, how can I be a Demigod and a Wizard? And what _is_ a Demigod in the first place?" he added.

"A Wizard is simply a person who can access and manipulate magic," Hecate explained slowly, "A Demigod is a person who is half-divine, the son or daughter of a God or Goddess. The two are not mutually exclusive, if I wish to gift a Demigod my Blessing then I shall, your Godly parents were more than happy to grant me permission to do so".

"I'm the son of a God or Goddess?" Harry echoed as he stared at Hecate with his mouth open in shock, "Of course I am. I can never be 'just Harry' can I?" he asked softly, realising that his life _could _be more fucked up than it was right now.

"You have a far greater destiny than that Harry Potter," Hecate corrected with a gentle smile.

"Wait," Harry realised suddenly, "You said my 'Godly parents', as in both of them? If I was a Demigod, then wouldn't I only have _one_ parent?"

"You would," Hecate agreed, "Unless you were either a Godling or a Twice-Blessed. A Godling, or a Twice-Blessed, is born of _two_ Gods but is mortal. A Twice-Blessed, like you Harry, is merely a Demigod with the power of _two_ parents. You are still a Demigod, just a Twice-Blessed one," she clarified, "And yes. Your Godly parents chose to give you to James and Lily Potter, on the account of you being mortal and Lily being your half-sister," she admitted.

Harry stared at Hecate in horror, a laugh bubbling out of his chest before he could stop it, throwing his head back to let it all out before he slowly lowered it to stare at the amused looking 'Goddess' as he tried to regain his breath. "Mum… Lily… Is my sister?" he exhaled between gasps, "As in my _sister_?" Hecate only nodded her head making Harry whimper as he tried to pull his blankets over his head, ending up curling up when Hecate proved to be heavier than she looked by weighting down the end of the bed.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked slowly, his voice muffled by the blankets over his head.

"Because despite how being a Demigod and being a Wizard are two different things. I made an oath to the King of Gods that I would not let Demigod children have both Magic _and_ their Godly powers until a certain stage in life," Hecate explained softly, "Wizard Demigods gain their powers later than non-magical ones, and they only have their powers 'unlocked' through their parent's interference or a life or death situation".

"I've had a lot of those," Harry muttered under his breath, not sure he'd have enough fingers left if he tried to count them all.

"Indeed you have," Hecate confirmed, "However as a Twice-Blessed _and_ a Wizard it needed to be something big, something extremely dangerous".

"Voldemort," Harry finished.

"Actually it was the Tournament as a whole," Hecate corrected as Harry pulled the blankets down so he could see her, "The Goblet of Fire is an ancient Roman tool used by Roman Demigods, the moment your name was called your powers started unlocking, and the moment touched the Triwizard Cup your powers were forcibly unbound".

"So you're here to take my magic then?" Harry asked slowly as his stomach sank, "Can't you just take my 'Demigod' powers away instead? I love my magic," he pleaded, visions on Ron and Hermione turning their backs on him for no longer being a Wizard flashing through his mind.

"I'm not here to take your magic away," Hecate denied, "In a Magical Demigod, they have two cores, their Magical one and their Divine one. However, these cores react negatively towards each other, if I were to leave now and never return you'd be dead by this time next year". Harry's head snapped up and he stared at the Goddess in horror as she smiled at him innocently, "What I'm here to do is decide if you're worthy of bearing my gift, and if you are I convert your Wizarding core into _my_ core, meaning you'll have pure magic instead of wand magic".

"You decide if I'm worthy?" Harry repeated nervously, "How?"

"I already have," Hecate confessed with a proud smile, "You wish to keep my gift because it granted you family. You are indeed worthy".

"That's it?" Harry blurted. "I mean I'm not trying to be disrespectful or anything," he added when Hecate's eyebrow rose, "I was just expecting something bigger, something more than just reading my mind I guess".

"Would you rather I send you out to slay a dragon in my name?" Hecate drawled slowly, making him shake his head rapidly, "Then stop complaining," she scolded. "If you want a Quest however, then I'll give you one," she decided, "Practice your new gifts, your new magic, and then instead of returning to Privet Drive get your Uncle to drop you off at Heathrow Airport to board a flight to New York. From there I want you to get to Montauk, Long Island. You'll find a Camp there for Demigods, you'll need the training they'll give you to survive the monsters that will surely hunt you down as a Twice-Blessed," she instructed slowly so Harry could remember it all.

"Monsters," was all Harry managed to get out, "I'm going to be hunted down and most likely eaten by monsters?"

"You should be used to it by now," Hecate deadpanned, "Acromantula. Basilisk. Dementors. The Dragon. The Grindylow in the lake. All of them have been attracted to your Demigod scent even if they didn't recognise it," she explained, "At the Camp you'll be trained in weapons, your powers, and even your magic by other Demigods. And the wards surrounding the Camp keep the Mythos, just as the wards around Hogwarts do only stronger".

"So my options are go to the Camp or get eaten?" Harry muttered slowly, "What a hard choice".

"Don't get snarky," Hecate warned, "Most Gods will not accept that kind of lip from anyone, especially not a mere Demigod, not even a Twice-Blessed".

"Sorry Ma'am," Harry apologised quickly making Hecate wave a hand dismissively.

"In the past Harry. Now to my most important piece of business here. Tom Riddle has returned and I want him dead," Hecate declared simply, "You have defeated him four times now, and I want you to be the one to destroy him permanently. You are the most powerful Magical Demigod to be roaming the planet, stronger even than my own half-blood children, add to that your Divine powers and you are my best choice to fight Voldemort".

"With all due respect Ma'am I was kind of expecting that I would be the one forced to defeat him in the first place," Harry admitted carefully when the Goddess paused, having already come to the realisation that since he defeated Voldemort the first time that he would be expected to so once more.

"Then you'll have no problem accepting a paid offer to do so from me then," Hecate confirmed, "Act as my Champion, I will grant you the power you need to destroy Riddle and his 'Death Eaters', and once your task is done you can return to whatever life it is you wish to live," she offered making Harry stare at her in shock.

"You're going to pay me to do what I was already going to do?"

"There is a prophecy about the two of you Harry," Hecate explained, "Only you can kill him, and only he can kill you. Fate will continue throwing you two at each other until one of you finally kills the other, I'm merely ensuring that you win".

"Oh," Harry exhaled, leaning back and blinking at Hecate in confusion, "Sure uh, I accept your offer Lady Hecate".

"Good boy Harry," Hecate said approvingly, "I'll arrange everything while you return to your sleep. Just remember, don't tell anyone about this, the Ministry will not hesitate to declare Demigods Dark Creatures to get at you and Dumbledore with the way they are planning on denying the Riddle's return".

"I'll keep that in mind Ma'am," Harry promised slowly, faltering as he was suddenly struck with how _normal_ he felt sitting there talking to a Goddess so casually.

Hecate smiled at him again and Harry offered her an awkward smile back, making the black-haired Goddess reach out to brush his fringe from his face, "Nightmares cannot hurt us Harry," she whispered softly, "They may haunt our dreams but they are nothing more than scary thoughts our doubts throw at us".

It was with that final comment that Harry was snapping up in bed, the dark shape of Tipsy the House Elf falling back onto her rear with a startled squeak. "Young Master should be sleeping _under_ the blankets," Tipsy scolded as she climbed back to her feet and put her hands on her hips, Harry glancing around the dark hospital wing slowly.

"Sorry Tipsy", Harry apologised gently as he grabbed the book and put it on the bedside table, his glasses quickly following as he shuffled down under the blankets and smiled softly at the motherly House Elf as she tucked him in while humming under her breath. "Thank you," he added with a yawn making Tipsy pat his head.

"Good sleeping Young Master," Tipsy whispered to him as he found himself sinking back into sleep, "Tipsy bes taking care of you".

Feeling strangely warmed by Tipsy's promise Harry let himself go into the darkness as a pair of glowing purple eyes flashed through his mind one final time.

* * *

**TWICE-BLESSED**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood'**_** challenge. This is the first ever idea I wrote for the Percy Jackson series, and I'm not ashamed to say it won't be the last.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, as more ideas are sure to come!**


	8. Deal with the Devil

**Deal with the Devil** – Harry Potter.

* * *

Kraven Shayde resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the man in front of him babbled out excuse after excuse, his mind constantly drifting away from the pathetic human to things much more interesting, like what the chefs were cooking that night, to what his son was doing, and then finally to what his wife-partner-mate was wearing.

As silence finally fell in his throne room Kraven's mind snapped back to attention and his black eyes drifted down from the ceiling to stare at the trembling human standing in the middle of the room. "Huh?" he asked simply, "Are you finished?"

"I- I- I wi- I will have the money for you." the man stuttered out instantly.

"I don't care," Kraven interrupted bluntly, waving a hand lazily through the air and shutting the human up as he stretched out slowly, "Whether you will have the money for me or not," he corrected. "What I care about, is that you _should_ have had the money for me _yesterday_," he explained gently, "I did give you one year to gather it for me did I not? I was being generous yes? _I_ believe I was," he pointed out as the balding man nodded rapidly. "Then why do you not have the money for me?" Kraven demanded softly, "I find myself… insulted," he threw out there, hiding his pleasure at watching the sweating human squirm.

"I- I swear – Lord Shadye – that you will get what I owe you and- uh- and _more_!" the human promised quickly, raising his hands and making a strange gesture towards Kraven that was obviously supposed to 'soothe' him.

"You're right," Kraven agreed slowly, his eyes flicking past the human to one of the guards lurking in the shadows of his throne room, a silent command passing between them telepathically. "I _will_ have more," he confirmed as the human let out a shriek of pain, the guard having leapt forward and taken him down at the knees, the human now kneeling before Kraven's throne as one clawed hand holding him down while the other rested on the crown of his head. "But what do _you _have that _I_ want?" Kraven asked innocently as he slowly folded up from where he was lounging and gracefully prowled down the stairs as his wings flexed eerily, pure black scales glistening in the light and making the human whimper.

"I gave your wife back her eyes," Kraven hissed as he slowly crouched before the human, "All I asked for was half of the proceeds of her business. Proceeds that we both know go straight into a savings account, meaning that there was no reason for you to _not_ have it".

"My wife- she's very ill," the man blurted.

"No she's not," Kraven corrected simply, slipping into the human's mind as cool black eyes met terrified brown. "And your car didn't get stolen. Nor did your children need the money," he continued, shooting down the human's excuses the moment they came to his mind. "_You got greedy!_" Kraven snarled as his own suddenly clawed hand wrapped around the human's throat and he lifted the man into the air, "And while I'm normally... very fond... of greedy people. I find people who try cheat me out of money to quite _despicable_," he growled out, his voice losing all human qualities and becoming purely demonic.

Tightening his grip for a moment Kraven hesitated before releasing the human suddenly, smirking for a split-second at the startled 'yip' of pain that echoed from the man as he hit the ground. "Let it not be known that I cannot be generous however," he decided slowly as he crouched back down before the shaking man, "You have one week," he declared as the human's eyes lifted to meet his once more, "To pay _double_ my fees or you and your precious little family with find yourselves scattered across the world in very _very_ tiny pieces," he promised. As the human started nodding rapidly Kraven's hand snapped out and he grasped the man's face without warning, "Until then however," he whispered softly, "I need collateral," he explained as he felt his powers going to work at the briefest of thoughts.

"Return him to his home," Kraven ordered as he stood and climbed the dais to his throne once more, throwing himself down lazily as he threw one leather-clad leg over the throne's arm. "In one piece," he added as a second thought as the man ran his hands over his face, "His sight will be returned after he gives us what is ours".

As his guards materialized from the walls and hooked their hands under the human's arms, carrying him away and out of his sight, Kraven found himself slumping down in his throne again, tilting his head back against the back of throne as a loud exhale rolled from his lungs. "Tell me that there is no one else," he called out slowly, raising a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, "Tell me I can go spend some time with my son".

"I'm afraid my liege," his steward/bodyguard/best friend's voice replied from behind his throne, "There is still more business to deal with today".

Kraven sighed and waved his hand in a 'go on' gesture, rolling his neck and smirking when it cracked loudly, wishing once more his wife were allowed to massage his shoulders while he worked (Something only forbidden because he could never pay attention to business when his wife was working her magic like that).

"Our Brother Severus Tobias is here with important news," Drakam, admitted, "Something regarding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".

"Tell Severus he is to spend the rest of the day in our potions lab," Kraven declared, "At his own leisure," he added quickly, "I will speak with him privately after dinner".

"Very well my liege," Drakam agreed, "And your next appointment is an extremely important young man who seeks your presence".

Kraven growled under his breath, "I _hate_ formal gatherings, they're so tedious".

"This is not so much of a formal meeting as it an informal one," Drakam corrected even as a baby's laugh echoed through the throne room and Kraven snapped up on the throne instantly, every fibre of his being locking onto the giggling baby being carried into the room by the golden haired and winged woman that had also been plaguing Kraven's thoughts that morning.

"DADDY!" Kraven's son exclaimed happily with another giggle as tiny clawed fingers pointed in his direction, the small black wings on his back flapping furiously even if his son wouldn't start flying for a couple more years at the least. "DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" echoed from the room as Kraven felt his face splitting into a grin, leaping from his chair and meeting his son and wife in the middle of the room, not hesitating to sweep his son into his arms and kiss his wife on the corner of her mouth as the sound of Drakam ordering everyone out of the room sounded behind them.

"How is my handsome man?" Kraven asked as he nuzzled his cooing son, "And how is his beautiful mother?" he added pulling his wife closer to repeat the process.

"Dante wanted to see you," Lilith assured him as they shared a quick kiss, "He's been calling for Daddy all morning, I asked for Drakam to send for us the moment your last appointment was over," she explained making Kraven beam down at his son.

Kraven was stopped from answering as his son twisted in his arms to slap a hand against his chest, staring up at him with eyes far too serious for an almost two-year-old. "Bad Daddy!" Dante declared stubbornly, "No go! Daddy stay!"

"He's also been telling everyone who would listen how bad Daddy was for leaving him," Lilith added with an amused smirk as Kraven quickly mumbled out some apologies for his son who actually managed to somehow look sceptical about believing him.

"Well I'm sorry Dante, it's just us for the rest of the day now," Kraven promised, stiffening as there was a knock at the throne room door and he turned in time to see Drakam slipping back into the room with an apologetic look on his face.

"I beg your forgiveness my liege, but one of your watchers has caught a family bound by debt to Clan Shayde trying to flee the country," Drakam explained, "He called the guards and had the four of them brought straight to me".

"What kind of debt?" Kraven asked even as he looked down at his son sadly, brushing a hand across Dante's soft wings that fluttered automatically at the touch.

"Multiple ones my liege. Gambling, bill payments, job acquisition," Drakam clarified, "It was your belief that he was an 'easy' mark with how he'd never get the required money to pay off his debts".

"And he was trying to flee the country you say?" Kraven asked as he glanced back over at his best friend.

"Our watcher reported him buying three one way tickets to America," Drakam confirmed making Kraven pull a face.

"This won't take long," Lilith said dismissively as she took Dante back and bounced him in her arms, "We can wait for Daddy can't we?" she asked her son who giggled before nodding quickly, likely not understanding most of the words his mother had spoken.

"You heard my wife, bring them in," Kraven ordered with a grateful smile in Lilith's direction, watching as Dante wrapped a handful of his mother's blonde hair around his fist.

The sound of muffled screaming and a loudly crying baby soon filled the air causing Kraven to scowl at the door to the throne room in disgust (Dante crying was one thing, Kraven thought, other people's babies were just disgusting in general), the doors being pushed open as four guards either levitated, or carried in the case of the two guards holding babies the family into the room. As Lilith took Dante over to the dais and absently conjured a small black rocking chair to sit in, Kraven slipped into the obscenely fat man's mind, discovering that one Vernon Dursley had in fact been trying to flee the country to escape from the debt he could never pay off.

"Shut that thing up," Kraven snarled angrily, glaring at the chubby baby that would soon be following in its father's footsteps in the weight department as it's screams only got louder at the sight of him. Grunting in approval (And making the mental note to mock the guard later) as the guard holding him conjured a black pacifier in a wisp of black smoke to shove in the kid's mouth, Kraven approached the fat human and sneered at him, "Did you _really_ think you could escape me?" he demanded slowly, the human screaming and yelling at him through the gag in his mouth. "Until you pay off your little debt, I own you," he growled out as he eyed the black chains wrapped around the man's bulk, "And to be honest there is a lot of you to own, but that's beside the point, since we both know that you're never going to pay off the aforementioned debt".

"The main question now is just, 'what do I do with you?' isn't it? I mean you tried to flee the country, in clear violation of our agreement," Kraven pointed out innocently, "And here I thought we were friends, we _have_ been doing business together for what? Almost two years now isn't it?"

When the fat human started trying to reply Kraven just shook his head and cupped his hand to his ear, "Yeah I can't understand you, you've got this thing, across your mouth," he taunted. "Well? Grovel" Kraven ordered simply.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US! WE'RE NORMAL FOLKS!" Vernon roared in response making Kraven's fist lash out and slam into the human's jaw, a loud crack echoing through the throne room.

"Actually I can do this to you," Kraven corrected slowly, feeling the black in his irises growing out to encompass his entire eye as his wings spread out threateningly and the room darkened eerily. "Because like I said _Vermin. I. OWN. YOU_," he snarled out, "Now. What are you going to give me to make this all go away?" he hissed as he made a shooing motion with his hands.

"Mo-money," Vernon began in a frightened stutter.

"You don't have any money," Kraven interrupted, not needing his mental powers to know that much, "If you did you wouldn't keep borrowing it from me".

"The house!" Vernon blurted.

"Isn't actually your house," Kraven countered with a smirk that revealed the tip of one long fang, "I checked that out. The rent that you're supposed to be paying to the real owners is actually funding the various prostitutes you buy on Sunday when you're out 'golfing'," he clarified for Petunia, Vernon's wife with a smug vindication.

"The boy," Vernon exclaimed making Kraven falter, blinking at the human in shock.

"You'd sell your own _son_ to me?" Kraven ground out in disgust, his paternal instincts telling him to just tear the useless lump's throat out and be done with him already.

"He's not mine," Vernon whimpered, "He's a freak like you!"

Gesturing absently with one hand Kraven ordered the two guards to step forward, each of them holding a baby no older than two years old in their arms, the chubby one struggling to get away (With the pacifier taped to his mouth to ensure his silence) while the green-eyed one just stared at him silently. Looking between the two of them Kraven sniffed the air hesitantly, his head snapping around to stare at the green-eyed boy in shock as he gestured for his wife to approach him quickly, "What's your name little one?" he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow when the boy just shook his head and burrowed back into the guard's arms.

"What's his name? Vermin?" Kraven demanded as Lilith reached them and sniffed at the boy slowly before jerking back in shock. "NOW!"

"I- I don't know!" Vernon blurted, Kraven's claws twitching with the urge to kill the pathetic human when he slipped into the man's mind and found he was telling the truth.

Looking instead to Petunia, Kraven dove into her mind and quickly found the boy's name and the reason for his label as a 'freak'. "My love, it seems young Harry here is not only a Wizard, but is a Son of Lustre," Kraven explained as he turned to face his wife.

Lilith's eyebrow just rose at him with an amused look in her eyes, "I know a fellow Lustre Demon when I smell one dear," she pointed out slowly making Kraven grimace at his own stupidity before he turned to stare at the boy in the guard's arms again, "Even if he _is_ only half".

"He's not just any Lustre Demon," Kraven corrected slowly, "He's Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived".

"His parents are dead then, explains what he was doing with these pathetic excuses for Humans," Lilith spat as Kraven shrank back at the familiar look in his wife's eyes as she stared at Harry. "What do you think Dante? Do you want a brother?" his wife asked their son who was staring at the infant Lustre Demon with wide eyes.

"We're not adopting him," Kraven declared bravely, steeling his nerves just in time for Lilith to turn dangerous eyes on him. "If you wish to bring him into the Clan then so be it, if you wish to raise him at Dante's side then so be it," he allowed quickly, not under the illusion that his wife would just bend over at his words, "But it will be as spiritual brother, as Dante's glorified manservant, _not_ as his blood brother".

"But we _will_ be raising him won't we Kraven?" Lilith asked slowly, her words dripping with ice.

"Of course my love," Kraven agreed quickly as her eyes narrowed, "He will be Protectorate of my Line, raised as Drakam was to me".

"That'll do," Lilith decided, taking Harry from the guard's arms without hesitation, "We'll need to give you a new name though, Harry, what a disgustingly muggle name".

Kraven sighed softly as Lilith turned and left the throne room with both babies, the Lord of the Shayde clan glancing over at his steward with a lost expression on his face, "So did that really just happen?" he asked quietly.

"Well? What about us?" Vernon demanded rudely making Kraven turn around to stare at the fat lump, "We gave you the boy, now let us go!"

"You're right" Kraven agreed, "You did give us the boy. In fact, that was such a great thing of you to do that we're going to write off that entire rent thing alright?"

"What?" Vernon stuttered out, "The boy _must_ be worth more than that to you!"

"He is. But you're trying to _sell_ him to me, I don't care what he's really worth, I just want to see you suffer," Kraven admitted with a smirk, "Take the lump to the mines, he can work off his debt there. The Giraffe can join the cleaning staff, that way she can continue to raise her son until he's of age to start working too," he ordered loudly, grinning and baring his teeth as he waved goodbye to the red-faced screaming humans.

"Stupid humans," Kraven muttered before turning to face Drakam as the guards dragged said stupid humans from the room, "Drakam. Tell me there was nothing I could have done to have stopped Lilith from adopting that Harry boy".

"As you steward or as your friend?" Drakam countered, "As your steward? Yes, you could have ordered her not to. But as your friend? You know the rules of marriage as well as I, the wife is always right, even when, no especially, when she's wrong".

Kraven grunted under his breath as he cracked his neck and flexed his wings again, "The Wizards aren't going to like this. Their precious Boy-Who-Lived being raised by Celestials. Demonic Celestials".

"No my liege. They're not," Drakam confirmed.

Kraven shot him a look before turning and heading towards the side doors, eager to return to his private quarters to spend some time with his son, "Then Drakam. Fix it".

* * *

**DEAL WITH THE DEVIL**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Prisoner of Magic**_**' challenge, this is actually one of the first AU ideas I had, as it's a little obvious that none of the above characters are part of either the Harry Potter world or any other.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	9. Knights of the Shining Palm

**Knights of the Shining Palm** – Harry Potter/Eragon.

* * *

Harry James Potter slowly opened his eyes, frowning slightly as he looked around an unfamiliar hall, the floor and walls made up of a strange looking stone with a dais in the middle of the circular room, a column arching down from the ceiling and up from the floor with a small gap between the two columns.

Swallowing nervously Harry glanced around the empty hall before hesitantly starting forward, his hand dipping into his pocket and grasping nothing, his wand apparently not making it to this strange place with him. Fists clenching and unclenching in frustration Harry started up the stairs, heading up to the dais cautiously, constantly glancing over his shoulder to check if he was still alone or not as the back of his neck burned in warning.

Brushing off the feeling of being watched as he reached the top of the dais without interruption, Harry approached the two columns, a sense of joy, love, and warmth flooding him the moment his eyes landed on the huge glowing diamond floating between the gap between the columns. Glancing around once more Harry circled the columns, eyeing the diamond carefully as he studied the columns and the crystal itself as the light that came from everywhere and yet nowhere reflected off the diamond to fill the hall with a sparkling aura of power. Raising his hands hesitantly as he approached the diamond again, Harry paused and glanced over his shoulder one last time before turning back to the diamond and meeting a pair of intense brown eyes staring at him over the crystal.

Yelping Harry threw himself backwards, hands coming up above his head in an 'I'm not touching it' manner even as a tall muscular brunet man stepped around the columns with a predatory smirk on his face. Backing away quickly Harry failed to remember the stairs and stepped straight off the dais, a series of yelps and grunts escaping his lips as he rolled and bounced down the stairs before he hit the ground roughly, cradling his aching right arm as he lay on the stone floor winded, trying to regain his breath as he prayed that the man wouldn't come after him.

Rolling onto his back Harry slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and froze at the sight of the brown-haired man sitting at the base of the stairs watching him with an amused twinkle shining in his eyes.

"Uh… hi?" Harry blurted awkwardly, his eyes flicking around the otherwise empty hall again before flicking back to the gorgeous man smiling gently at him.

"Eloquent" the man murmured, "Much like myself at your age".

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked in confusion, frowning at the man as he tilted his head, rich brown eyes staring at Harry seemingly seeing straight through to his soul.

"Don't be. You've done nothing wrong" the man corrected softly, "In fact it should be me apologising to you, I did startle you after all".

"Uh forget about it" Harry mumbled as he slowly shuffled away from the man, still not standing up as he eyed the brunet nervously. "Um… where am I?" he asked hesitantly, "And who are you?"

"I am Eragon" the man introduced with a strange half-bow even as he remained sitting, "Shadeslayer. Argetlam. Shur'tugal".

"I'm Harry. Boy-Who-Lived" Harry replied, feeling his neck heating up as 'Eragon' beamed at him, white teeth shining as the brunet gracefully stood and extended his hand to Harry.

"I know who you are Harry Potter" Eragon dismissed as Harry awkwardly took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, "I have been waiting for you for a _very _long time now".

"I'm sorry" Harry mumbled quietly, feeling strangely embarrassed by the way his hand remained clasped in Eragon's larger calloused ones. "Wait what?" he blurted when his mind caught up with the brunet's words, "What do you mean you've been waiting for me?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing the brunet man cautiously.

Eragon chuckled, a sound that made shivers run down Harry's spine as the brunet turned, still holding Harry's hand, and started up the stairs once more, leading him towards the dais. "Many thousands of years ago I was what was known as a Dragon Rider" Eragon began slowly, "I fought in a war, a rebellion against what you would call a 'Dictator' in your language".

"Did you win?" Harry asked curiously, flushing as Eragon raised an eyebrow at him in amusement.

"You could say that" Eragon admitted quietly, "I battled Galbatorix myself, and when it seemed like all hope was lost, I cast a spell. The spell forced Galbatorix to feel all the pain, all the suffering, that he had caused Alagaesia. It drove him to madness" he explained slowly, "And in his insanity and pain he used his magic, and the magic of all the Eldunari in his possession and spoke in the Ancient Language, the language of Magic".

"What did he say?" Harry asked softly, finding himself being drawn in by Eragon's story as they lowered themselves down to sit at the top of the stairs.

"'Be Not'" Eragon whispered with a lost expression on his face, "With the amount of power at his disposal Galbatorix… he… he destroyed…"

Slowly Harry reached out to place his hand on Eragon's where it was resting on his knee, the brunet offering him a warm smile as he steeled himself. "Galbatorix destroyed my world" he admitted slowly, "He destroyed _everything_and killed _everyone_. If not for the Eldunari in my possession I would be dead too, I barely managed to cast a spell to get myself out in time. But I didn't have enough power, I didn't have enough to create a dimensional pocket this big and bring everyone I cared about though. I lost Murtagh, Arya, Ronan" he cut off as his voice choked out, "And I lost Saphira".

Not knowing both who Saphira was and how to respond to this Harry did nothing, just squeezed Eragon's hand as the brunet man recovered from his near miss.

"Since the Eldunari were on my person at the time they came here with me" Eragon forced out as he straightened his shoulders and smoothed his face out, "And with their guidance I discovered a way to keep the dragon race alive. I fused them all, turning them into a new dragon, that dragon" Eragon explained as he gestured behind him to the diamond crystal… the diamond dragon egg… between the columns, "And I waited for a person _pure_enough, _strong_enough, to handle the power and responsibility being a Dragon Rider".

Harry felt himself stiffening as Eragon's words washed over him, a sinking feeling forming in his gut as he realised what the man was implying. "You mean me" he blurted as he stood quickly, backing away from Eragon, "I'm the 'pure' person aren't I?"

"Your soul is something I've only seen the likes of once before" Eragon claimed slowly, standing up as well and watching Harry with a fond expression, "Your soul is the reincarnation of Saphira, my Dragon".

"You're crazy" Harry exhaled slowly, shaking his head as his hand came up to comb through his hair, gripping it roughly enough to cause tears of pain to prick at the corner of his eyes. "This is just some crazy dream isn't it?"

"That proves what I'm saying Harry" Eragon pointed out slowly, "Just like me, you don't want this, you don't want the power, the immortality. You want to be Just Harry, like how I wished to be Just Eragon when I first discovered Saphira's egg in the Spine".

"And that proves what I'm saying" Harry countered, "You think I'm the reincarnation of your dragon!" he exclaimed.

"I _know_you are" Eragon corrected, "And whether you choose to believe me or not, there is one thing that remains the same no matter what you believe. That egg" he explained pointing at the egg between the columns, "Is the last living true dragon. And that egg, will only awaken for you. If you walk out that door then you're resigning the last true dragon to death" he exhaled, the amount of passion in his voice making Harry falter.

"But there's something missing" Eragon continued gently as he moved over to stand in front of the egg, Harry circling around so he was standing opposite the handsome man, "This is a dragon, but only a dragon's body a dragon's magic. There is no _soul_".

"And? How do we fix that?" Harry ground out, unable to leave an entire species to die when he could help, still mentally cursing Eragon as he met the man's grateful brown eyes.

"We need to provide it a soul, take a soul from somewhere else and put it in the egg" Eragon explained making Harry's eyes widen and causing him to step away.

"That's black magic" Harry refused shaking his head.

"No it's not" Eragon denied softly, "It's the circle of life. My time has come and gone centuries ago, I'm ready to move on".

"Wait you're going to sacrifice yourself?" Harry blurted in shock, stepping forward again and staring at Eragon over the dragon egg.

"It's fitting" Eragon murmured, "Last time I was the Rider and you were the Dragon. This time it's the other way around. Besides, our souls are linked as it is, no other soul would cause the dragon to waken. I'm the only one who could do this, unless of course you want to sacrifice your soul and become a dragon?" he asked pointedly making Harry step away from him cautiously.

"Exactly" Eragon confirmed, "It's okay Harry. I _want_this" he assured him softly, "I've been alive for so long, to go into the afterlife is a long awaited blessing for me. My spirit will move on, but my soul will always be here for you, inside your dragon".

"Isn't there another way?" Harry whispered, already knowing from Eragon's words that there wasn't.

"None" Eragon confirmed, "Take care of baby me would you?"

Before Harry could stop him Eragon reached out and placed both hands on the diamond, speaking four words in a strange language, his brown eyes flicking up to meet Harry's before he smiled and exploded into a golden dust that was absorbed into the egg.

Swallowing nervously Harry reached out, his fingers hovering over the shell of the egg for a moment before he brought them together and cupped the large egg in his hands, his face twisting into a small smile as he felt the warmth he had felt when he first laid eyes on the egg radiating into his hands and up into his chest, a feeling of familiarity striking him as he held the egg. "I'll protect you with my life Eragon" Harry whispered, staring down at the egg in his hands, "I swear it on my magic" he added making his magic swirl around him gently to mark the oath.

He jumped in fright as the egg let out a squealing noise and shuddered in his hands, quickly returning it to its place between the columns and stepping away, watching as the egg rocked in place and moved on its own. Realising what was happening Harry's eyes widened, a crack splitting the egg seconds later, the crack spidering out as a small nose pushed at the shell surrounding it which shattered suddenly leaving a small diamond-silver coloured dragon barely the size of one of Aunt Marge's pit-bulls sitting on the column, shaking its head quickly. As Harry stepped forward the dragon's head snapped up making him freeze expectantly, his shoulders slumping suddenly as the dragon bounced in place and let out a series of high-pitched squeaks at the sight of him, tail swinging side to side happily. Hesitantly stepping forward again, Harry slowly stretched out his hand towards the dragon that followed it with steel-grey eyes, stepping forward one more time and causing the dragon to squeak once more before reaching out with its neck and butting its head against Harry's palm.

Almost instantly a surge of icy energy was racing up Harry's arm, filling his veins with liquid fire and he let out a scream at the pain that rolled through his paralysed body feeling ten times worse than even the Cruciatus Curse, until, with a deafening clang and the taste of blood in his mouth Harry passed out, collapsing to the floor with a pair of curious steel-grey eyes being the last thing he saw before everything went black.

* * *

Harry groaned as his eyes fluttered open, squinting as the rising sunlight shone straight in through his open window, raising his arm to throw it over his face in an attempt to block the sun and go back to sleep even as he stretched out slowly, causing a couple of annoyed squeaks and rasps to echo up from the end of the bed.

"Go back to sleep" Harry groaned as he pulled a face, shifting in bed before freezing as he felt a weight between his legs as claws dug into the flesh of his thigh. Swallowing nervously Harry shook his head, "It was just a dream" he murmured to himself, "It was just a dream, there's no dragon, there's no Eragon, I was just dreaming".

Harry grimaced as he felt the weight between his legs shifting, feeling four small claws climbing onto his body and padding down his chest until the not-dragon was standing on his chest likely staring down at him. Slowly moving his arm Harry kept his eyes closed as he lifted his head slightly, jerking back when he felt breathing across his face. "Still no dragons here, just really weird dreams" he mumbled, flinching as a squeak responded to him and a paw lifted from his chest to bump at his jawline. "No dragons" he denied stubbornly before yelping as a claw slapped him roughly, his eyes snapping open to scowl at the diamond-silver coloured dragon standing on his chest, "Hey! What was that for?"

* * *

**KNIGHTS OF THE SHINING PALM**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Last**__**Rider**_**' challenge, this idea combines a series that I loved as a child with another series that I loved as a child – even if the Eragon movie massively let me down.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	10. Lost

**Lost** – Harry Potter/Avengers.

* * *

Harry James Potter swore as he ducked under the brilliant blue curse that Yaxley had cast at him, the spell striking the fountain and gouging a deep slash into the golden metal.

"STUPEFY!" he yelled, sending a beam of red light back at Yaxley and striking a random Wizard that the Death Eater summoned in the way of the charm. "STUPEFY! STUPEFY!" Harry continued as the crowd in front of him parted between the two duelling wizards.

"HARRY! We need to go!" Hermione's voice screamed over the crowd, making Harry glance over to see her and Ron fending off some Death Eaters of their own.

"GO HERMIONE!" Harry shouted as he jabbed his wand at the ground, causing the tiling to explode up so a second thrust of his wand could banish them at Yaxley, "PLAN B!" he added as he sent several stunning spells at the approaching Dark Wizards. As he heard the sound of Hermione and Ron disapparating away Harry flicked his wand before slashing it across his body with a shouted "GLACIUS TEMPESTA!"

Ice burst into existence around him as his magic leapt at his command, a vortex of swirling ice surrounding him as shards of ice deflected all incoming spells. Smirking as he felt the magic coating his body fading Harry raised his hand, eyeing the blue that was rapidly spreading across his skin before he twisted his wrist and thrust his empty palm forward, the violent blizzard surrounding him exploding forward and tearing through the ranks of the Death Eaters surging towards him. Rolling his neck to crack it, Harry snapped his fingers with a muttered "_spegill_", waving his hand down his body with an added "_ósýnilega_". Stepping backwards as his body faded into invisibility he nodded to the two doubles of him standing there with pink skin and determined looks on their faces as they turned to face the Dark Wizards who were barely managing to fight off his blizzard. Hesitating as he felt something resonating in his magic, Harry felt magic surging up before he could stop it and forcing him to vanish with a loud crack and an explosion of cold air.

Yelping as his magic dropped him rudely onto the hard metal surface Harry blinked up at the shocked man in front of him, the man's bright blue eyes wide as they stared at him intently. "Ow" Harry deadpanned as he stood up slowly, eyeing the man in front of him cautiously before faltering as he glanced around to find himself in a circular glass cell in the middle of a strange room, "Uh hi? Sorry to just drop by like this" he apologized sheepishly.

"It's not possible" the man exhaled slowly as he continued to stare at him.

"Actually it is. Magic" Harry countered. "Uh sorry" he repeated before raising his wand, "Obliviate" he murmured as he concentrated on the past couple of minutes like Hermione had taught him before twisting on the spot and apparating again, yelping once more as his magic bounced off the inside of the glass cell and he was thrown to the floor again.

"Do you really think I wouldn't have teleported out of here if I could have?" the man asked dryly, "This cell is warded against magic, I noticed _that_ the moment I stepped foot into it".

"Wait. How do you know about magic?" Harry demanded as he forced himself to his feet, pointing his wand at the unimpressed black-haired man in front of him.

"Really?" the man asked with a disappointed look before his eyes drifted down to Harry's hand, making him stiffen as his eyes followed him to discover that his glamour hadn't come back up over his hand yet leaving his flesh still blue. "Drop it" the man ordered bluntly, "I want to see who you really are".

"Obliviate" Harry blurted, his wand tip flashing and the spell washing over the man who merely raised an eyebrow at him pointedly. "Oh... that's not good" Harry mumbled.

"I said. Drop your glamour" the man growled out, "If you do then so will I" he added with a knowing look.

Harry narrowed his eyes before glancing around the still empty room surrounding the cell, "Couldn't hurt" he mumbled before raising his hand and snapping his blue fingers, the blue flesh rushing down the rest of his body as he grew both up and out, all of his glamours falling at once and leaving him standing there with freezing cold blue flesh and red glowing eyes.

"How?" the man whispered as his blue eyes flared and the blue drained out of them leaving his eyes a heart-stopping piercing green, "Odin told me you were dead when I woke up. And Heimdall claimed that you and Lily were lost to his sight, that you were dead".

"Odin? Heim- What?" Harry blurted, stepping back as the man stepped forward, "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded angrily.

"When that foul creature cast your Mortal Killing Curse on me my soul returned to Asgard" the man claimed with a lost expression on his face, "But you and Lily were only Human, you didn't have the Asgardian resistance to such black magic. I believed you both dead so I remained on Asgard and never returned to Midgard again, I couldn't bear go back to that world with both of you dead".

"Well I'm not" Harry pointed out dryly, "Stay back" he ordered as the man stepped forward again and he raised his wand once more.

The man just smirked at him and raised a hand, magic lashing out and knocking the wand from Harry's hand as it settled around the room. Glaring Harry threw himself to the side, whispering out "_spegill_" as he came up in a roll, two more doubles of himself coming up on either side of him that the man smirked at again as his own body shimmered with green light and two doubles stepped out of him.

"You can't best me Harkin, not with that pathetic Mortal Magic" the man corrected before he snapped his own finger, Harry's jaw dropping as the man's flesh turned blue and his eyes turned red to look just like Harry did. "Although now I know of my true heritage it makes sense that you're not of Asgardian blood" the man finished.

"Harkin? How did... Who are you?" Harry demanded dumbly as he considered shattering the glass so he could apparate to Hermione before remembering that the glass was warded against magic.

"I thought you were dead" the man whispered as he stepped forward again, his hands on Harry's cheeks before he could stop the man, the surprising warmth making Harry hesitate before pulling away.

"Who are you" Harry whispered back, his magic reaching out to brush against the man's which responded with a gentle caress that filled Harry's entire body with warmth.

"Loki of Asgard" the man introduced, "Your father".

The spell broken Harry jerked away from the man angrily, ignoring how the room temperature dropped as he forced his magic back into his core, "My father died to save my life" he snarled out as his wand slapped back into his hand, "I will _not_ let you insult his good name".

"I am your father" 'Loki' corrected gently, "Odin banished me to Earth in the body of a child after I transfigured his clothes into a dress in a full court" he explained with a smirk "I was reborn on Earth as a Human Sorcerer named James Potter and only regained my memories upon my death".

"My father is dead" Harry growled slowly as his wand tip flared.

The man rolled his eyes and pointed his finger at Harry "_faðerni próf_" he cast simply, a beam of white light striking Harry in the chest.

"faðerni próf" Harry echoed as his entire body glowed white, "Paternity test" he translated, "Did you just cast a paternity spell on-" his words froze in his throat as the white glow moved off him to form two names backwards, facing towards Loki. The glowing 'Loki Odinson' constantly blurring and changing into as 'James Potter' before changing back while 'Lily Evans' remained static.

"That's not right" Loki snarled out darkly.

"Merlin's balls it's not" Harry snapped, "You're not James Potter!"

"I was" Loki dismissed as a wave of his hand changed him into the same figure Harry had seen countless times in the pictures in his photo album, "But I have _never_ been Odin's son".

"Yes you have brother" a loud voice corrected slowly making both Harry and Loki turn to stare at the blond man opening the cell door. "Blood or not you were always father's son, my brother" the man who could only be Thor explained with a soft smile as the door opened and he stepped into the cell, the man turned to stare at Harry before his face split into a grin so wide it must have hurt, "And now I have a nephew!" he boomed without warning as he bounced over to pick Harry up in a bone-breaking hug as he spun him around excitedly.

Tapping into his magic instinctively Harry apparated away, landing next to the glass wall so the wards wouldn't repel him, "Oh Merlin I am so lost it isn't funny" he murmured under his breath as the unfazed Thor picked Loki up in an equally painful hug while demanding to know how many 'cycles' worth of presents he needed to buy.

"You and me both kid" a voice replied making Harry yelp as he spun to face the red and gold robot standing next to the window, "Hi Tony Stark" the robot introduced as Harry's eyes flicked to the man who he instantly recognized as Captain America.

"Where am I?" Harry asked slowly as he eyed the other costume wearing people and the scowling black man in the leather trench-coat and eye patch.

"America" the tired looking man with black curls replied simply.

"Oh" Harry blurted as he blinked slowly "Wow I _am_ lost aren't I?"

* * *

**LOST**

* * *

**So this one isn't actually a response to some challenge or another, it's just an idea I wrote when my sister challenged me to write a one-shot about Loki.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	11. Black Legacy

**Black Legacy** – Harry Potter/Percy Jackson.

* * *

A paralysing terror filled Harry so he couldn't move or speak. His patronus flickered and died.

White fog was blinding him. He had to fight … expecto patronum … he couldn't see … and in the distance, he could hear the familiar screaming … expecto patronum … he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm … they weren't going to take him …

But a pair of strong clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry's neck. They were forcing his face upward … he could feel its breath … it was going to get rid of him first … he could feel it's putrid breath … his mother was screaming in his ears … she would be the last thing he ever heard -

"_Tell them to stop, my son_"

It took Harry a moment to realise that the new voice wasn't from his memories, that it was someone speaking to him instead, that it was someone trying to help him somehow.

"_The Wraith will obey you, make them stop_"

"St- stop" Harry croaked out, barely able to raise a hand to push at the Dementor's chest as it started inhaling with its rattling voice.

"_ORDER them. COMMAND them. Make them bend to your will_"

As his vision blurred and his body started feeling lighter Harry mustered up all his strength and shoved at the dementor properly, "STOP!" he forced out, letting out an uncontrollable sob as the Dementor released him instantly, dropping him to the ground. "Leave us alone" Harry ordered as he felt the violating cold beginning to retract, pulling out of his mind and allowing him to begin thinking clearly again.

"_Good my son_" the voice whispered in his mind again making him glance around slowly, still feeling too weak to make any large movements, "_Do what you wish with the Wraith, they were made to serve you and your siblings_"_._

"Siblings?" Harry whispered softly, looking around slowly again and staring at the Dementors that were now surrounding the clearing, all just floating there watching them with eyeless sockets, starting as he realised he no longer felt afraid of them when he could control them with a single word. "Why do you keep attacking me?" he mused as he forced himself into a sitting position, "This is the third time you've tried to kill me? Am I Dementor crack or something?

"**So-ul sh-ard**"

Harry's whimper echoed embarrassingly through the clearing as the Dementors all spoke in unison, their voices ethereal and dark as they rattled out an answer Harry hadn't been expecting in the first place. "Soul shard? What soul shard?" Harry asked slowly, flexing his body and making his way to his feet nervously, part of him just waiting for the Dementors to attack again.

"**Sc-ar. Ol-d Ma-s-ter**" rattled out the Dementors, making Harry shift slowly, the sound sending shivers down his spine.

"My scar? Old Master?" Harry questioned hesitantly, "Wait" he blurted as it fell into place, "There's a shard of your old master in my _scar_?" he exclaimed as his hand rose up to trace along the jagged edge of the lightning bolt.

"**Yes**".

"And… and you've been trying to take it out?" Harry realised suddenly, "You haven't been trying to Kiss _me_, but the soul shard?"

"**Yes**".

"And if I let you, you won't hurt me? Or touch _my_ soul?" Harry clarified, the thought of having a shard of _Voldemort's_ soul in his forehead making him sick to his stomach, "You'll just take Voldemort's soul?"

"**We wi-ll not har-m yo-ung ma-s-ter**" The Dementors chorused obediently, "**We can-not har-m yo-ung ma-s-ter**" they assured him.

Harry looked around at the Dementors before shaking his head, "I must be crazy for considering this" he muttered to himself before glancing over his shoulder at the unconscious Sirius. "You will take the soul shard from my scar" he commanded slowly, "You will then hunt down Peter Pettigrew, a rat animagus missing a finger, and bring him to me. You will not take his soul or the soul of Sirius Black. Do you understand?" he demanded as he turned back to face them.

"**Yes**" the Dementors agreed as a ripple moved through their number until one Dementor broke free of them and started towards him while the others scattered, a wave of relief washing through Harry as he realised that they were still listening to him.

"Wait" Harry whispered when the Dementor reached him, "It's going to hurt isn't it?" he asked softly.

"**Yes**".

Harry nodded slowly, "Of course it is" he mumbled, "Once you take out the soul shard I want you to stay with Sirius Black and protect him" he ordered hopefully, "He's under my protection and is to come to no harm".

"**We und-er-st-and**" The Dementor forced out as Harry moved his bangs out of the way and tilted his head up for the it.

"Take the shard now" Harry instructed, clamping his eyes shut as he felt the Dementor moving in front of him, a scaled hand being placed gently on either side of his head as he felt the Dementor's aura activating once more, this time seemingly focused on his scar as he felt foreign feelings of revulsion and fear brushing up against his mind.

As the Dementor's mouth closed over the scar on his forehead Harry clenched his jaw shut as his eyes snapped out, a strangled whine escaping his mouth as pain rolled through his body, originating from the scar as a high-pitched shriek sounded from it. The Dementor let out an annoyed noise as its hands tightened on Harry's head, a tugging feeling erupting in his scar as he felt something dark, obviously Voldemort's soul, fighting to escape and turning on Harry, trying to take control as his mind was being shunted to the side.

"_Think of your loved ones_" the voice whispered in Harry's mind, making his mind dart to Hermione and Hedwig (It was pathetic to think of Hedwig as a loved one he knew, but she had been his first friend and she mothered him every chance she got, how could he not love her?) instantly, warmth flooding his body seconds later and rising up to slam against the soul shard fighting the Dementor's Kiss, the sheer power of the warmth overwhelming the soul shard and forcing it up into the Dementor's mouth.

As the Dementor backed away instantly Harry blinked up at the black smoke being sucked into the gaping hole that was its mouth, "Thanks" he blurted dumbly before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he was falling backwards, briefly noticing his head had landed on something soft before everything went black.

* * *

"Impressive".

Harry's eyes snapped open and he shot up from where he was lying, looking around the black room slowly before freezing at the sight of the black-haired man lounging lazily in a throne-like chair in front of him, his mind linking what the man was wearing to Petunia and Vernon's rants about 'Goths' and 'Emos'.

"You did rather well for someone without a clue of what was going on" the man drawled in a silky voice, finger-claw tapping on his jaw as he studied Harry, "Nice touch sending the Wraith after Pettigrew by the way, I sent some of my Hounds to join them however since Wraith aren't particularly good at hunting" he explained slowly, "Pettigrew will be found and your _god_father will be a free man by the end of the night I assure you".

"Thank you" Harry replied hesitantly, glancing around the room cautiously as he backed away from the strangely familiar man slowly, "But um, who… who are you? And how was I hearing your voice before?"

"I am Hades, Lord of the Dead" the man introduced with a yawn as he threw one leather-clad leg over the arm of his chair, "And you are my son. Kind of" he corrected with a lazy shrug, "You're actually Pluto's son but I can't be bothered changing right now".

"Hades… Pluto?" Harry echoed dumbly, "Either you're crazy or I'm dreaming" he blurted.

"Both actually" 'Hades' admitted simply, "I brought your soul here while your body rests so we can talk" he explained "And I'd like to see you rule the Underworld for as long as I have without becoming the slightest bit unhinged" he added with an indignant sniff.

"My father is James Potter" Harry countered, deciding to just go along with the crazy man's game.

"Yes he is" Hades confessed, "He and Lily blood adopted you after you were given to them. Your birth parents however are Gods, myself and another".

"Right. Of course they are" Harry deadpanned, "Prove it. If you were Gods, you would be able to prove it".

"Have I not shown you proof enough?" Hades questioned slowly as he stood, moving closer to Harry, "I placed an army of Wraith at your command. I returned Black's soul to his body though it was too late. I sent Hounds after Pettigrew to prove Black was innocent. I showed you how to counteract the soul shard's possession. Is that not enough for you?" he demanded as Harry found himself backed into the corner.

"No Sir" Harry blurted before he could stop himself, "It's fine Sir".

"Good" Hades chirped, seemingly cheerful again as he turned and strutted back over to his throne, "Now Hadrian. You're my, Pluto's, son. This means there are certain rules you must be made aware of. First is that you _must_ attend Camp Half-Blood, a training facility for Demigods like yourself" he declared, "I've spoken to your mother and she has agreed that she will be the one to formally claim you since being known as a child of mine is… bad… for your health" he admitted slowly.

"Who _is_ my mother? You said my parents were Gods meaning two?" Harry pressed, unable to deny that 'Gods' was a good way to explain everything that had just happened. After all, if magic exists then why not the Gods? Wasn't there like a Goddess of Magic or something?

"It's a surprise" Hades refused bluntly.

"Fine. Then you said you were Hades, and that I was Pluto's son" Harry pointed out in annoyance, "How can I be _your_ son if I'm Pluto's?"

Hades' body rippled and suddenly his hair was shrinking in to sit messily on top of his head much like Harry's did as his goatee was trimmed and his clothes turned into a simple fitted black suit. "I _am_ Pluto" Hades claimed slowly, "As the Roman Empire was formed they started calling Hades by a different name, seeing him differently, and eventually I was formed. Pluto, Roman God of the Dead" he explained, "Almost every Greek deity has a Roman aspect. Think of it like having two personalities" he suggested. "Well some of us, like your mother, govern something that is very fixed. Death, Revenge, Discord, Love" he listed with a shrug, "In our cases we are fully aware of our other personality, Aphrodite sees Venus' children as her own, I see Hades' children as my own and vice versa. You may be _my_ son Hadrian, but Hades sees you as his own just as much".

"Right" Harry exhaled as the suited Pluto turned back into Hades.

"Pluto's shy" Hades whispered with a wink, "He tends to let me be in charge as he goes off and does something".

"Of course" Harry agreed slowly, wondering if he'd wake up to find his soul had been sucked out by Dementors and that he was simply dreaming.

"Anyway. Rule number two!" Hades exclaimed, "Is that you must wear _this_ at all times" he ordered, waving a hand and causing a ball of something that Harry realized must have been just pure _darkness_ to appear in front of him, forming into something and falling into Harry's hand as he raised it. "It is a powerful weapon, guard it well, and only use it in times of severe distress" he instructed.

"This is a pen" Harry deadpanned.

"No it's not" Hades corrected slowly with a frown.

"I don't know why I just said that" Harry mumbled slowly, also frowning as he eyed the black Swiss army knife in his hand, "It just slipped out".

"Indeed" Hades drawled slowly with a roll of his eyes, Harry just noticing the black mascara, "Understand this Harry. If you draw that weapon in battle you will not lose. But in doing so you will announce your heritage more loudly than if you were to stand on the sky tower and scream it to the world. Stygian Iron is something among mortals, only my children can wield".

"Yes Sir, uh Dad?" Harry replied hesitantly slowly sliding it into his pocket and looking back up at Hades.

"Good boy" Hades said with a nod, "We'll speak again soon. Now wake up" he ordered with a snap of his fingers, Harry's eyes snapping open once more to stare at the familiar white ceiling of the hospital wing.

* * *

**BLACK LEGACY**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood**_**' challenge, this is the beginning of what is going to be a long-lived obsession with the Percy Jackson series so I'll apologise in advance.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	12. Number Five

**Number Five** – Harry Potter/Lorien Legacies.

* * *

"So" said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "So does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other… in the end?"

"Yes" said Dumbledore.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office walls, Harry could hear the sounds of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew or cared that Sirius Black was gone forever. Sirius seemed a million miles away already; even now a part of Harry still believed that if he had only pulled back that veil, he would have found Sirius looking back at him, greeting him, perhaps, with his laugh like a bark…

"I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry" said Dumbledore hesitantly.

"Save it", Harry's voice sounded hollow as he dismissed Dumbledore's apology, "You've done enough".

"Harry" Dumbledore began slowly.

"No" Harry interrupted coldly, "You've done enough. If you had just _told_ me, then I would never have believed that vision. I would never have gone to the Ministry and Si- and Sirius would still be alive".

"Harry".

"No" Harry repeated again, shaking his head as he stood and started pacing, "This… this is your fault" he accused, "Yeah, I'm the reason Sirius was there, I'm the reason Sirius is dead. But _you_, you're the reason things got that far!" he yelled angrily. "This Prophecy isn't even real! And yet because of it you ruined my life! If you had told me when I asked you in my First Year, then none of this would have happened! If you had trained me I could have stopped him in the Graveyard!"

"I wanted to give"

"LIAR!" Harry screamed as the chair in front of him exploded in his anger, "YOU KNEW HOW THEY TREATED ME! YOU KNEW I NEVER HAD THE CHANCE TO BE A CHILD! YOU ADMITTED IT!"

"Young man!" a voice from one of the portraits on the wall began, "Do NOT talk to the Headmaster that way!"

"Oh shut up you snivelling old coot!" Harry snapped making the portrait jerk back in shock. "This is all on you _Sir_" he growled out as he turned back to face Dumbledore, ignoring the tears dripping down the old man's face, "And guess what?" he asked gently, "It's all been for naught. Do you know _why_ I didn't pick up the Prophecy orb tonight? It wasn't because I realised it was a trap, oh no" he snarled as Dumbledore looked up at him, every inch of him looking as defeated as Harry felt. "Come on, ask me why _Headmaster_" Harry ordered, stalking forward to place his hands on Dumbledore's desk and leaning forward with a sadistic smirk, "Ask, me, why".

"Why?" Dumbledore exhaled slowly, "Why didn't you pick up the Prophecy?"

"Because I _couldn't_" Harry confessed simply, tilting his head back to bark out a laugh that would have made Sirius proud, "The Prophecy could only be picked up by Voldemort and Harry Potter, and I couldn't pick it up".

As horror flashed across Dumbledore's face Harry nodded slowly, "Now you get it don't you? _I'm not Harry Potter_" he exclaimed angrily, "You've played my entire life like a game of chess, only to find out too late that you were using a checker piece instead. But that's not the worst part" he continued as Dumbledore stared at him in shock, his mouth opening and closing dumbly, "You spent fifteen years training me to be your good little weapon, well guess what? I'm not fighting for you. So you have no weapon, and I have no identity. We're both fucked aren't we?" he drawled out before turning on his heel and stalking towards the door, not bothering to open it as he waved his hand at it, causing it to shatter into splinters loudly, Harry stepping through the now doorless hole like it was an everyday occurrence for him.

Walking aimlessly Harry found himself slowly to a stop in an empty hallway, looking up and down it in confusion before his eyes locked onto the familiar tapestry on the wall. Turning to face the opposite wall Harry hesitantly strode forward to push open the wooden door in front of him, a strangled sob escaping his throat as he found himself looking into Sirius' bedroom. Entering the room slowly, absently closing the door behind him, Harry felt a stinging sensation building up in his eyes, not waiting a second longer before darting forward and throwing himself onto Sirius' bed as the tears started flowing freely.

* * *

Harry woke with a scream, flailing as he fell off the unfamiliar bed he was sleeping in and hit the floor, curling up immediately as his hands went to his right leg.

Rolling up his pants Harry looked down at his leg as he bit back the urge to scream again, the almost blinding pain causing the muscles in his leg to seize against his will as Harry watched two glowing circles appearing on the side of his calf that felt like they had been dipped in molten lava.

As the pain increased Harry's vision started blurring and going spotty, his head getting heavier before he dropped it down to the floor, the pain sapping all of his energy as his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out, a faint blue symbol burning itself into his eyes lids, a spiral made up of three strings of orbs coming into a single point in the centre.

* * *

Harry groaned as his eyes flickered open, confusion flashing through his mind for a moment as he realised he had been sleeping on the floor.

Sitting up slowly Harry looked around the room and felt all his memories slamming their way back into his mind with enough force that Harry collapsed back down onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling as he waited expectantly for the tears he felt to come. When they didn't come, leading Harry to believe he was all cried out for a moment, he scrambled across the floor and up onto the bed, sinking back into the warm sheets with a groan. Faltering for a moment as he remembered the pain in his leg Harry sat up and twisted his leg, freezing at the sight of the two circular scars on his calf, the red inflamed scars standing out against his pale skin. Slowly reaching out to run his fingers over them, Harry got a flash in his mind, first of a beautiful tanned blonde girl, and then of a young girl with red curly hair and thick glasses on her face as he touched the first and then the second scars respectively.

Frowning at the strange scars, Harry slowly straightened his leg out, cautiously bringing his other leg around to stare at it, swallowing nervously as he eyed the familiar symbol that had been burned into his left calf, the same symbol that had been the last thing he had seen last night before passing out. Pulling his wand from his pocket Harry tapped both his legs, murmuring out a glamouring spell as he watched his legs ripple and shimmer before smoothing out.

His body feeling strangely heavy, Harry pulled himself out of bed and raised his wand, casting a silent _tempus_ and grimacing at the time. Not wanting to leave the Room of Requirement and bump into Ron or Hermione, Harry stood there awkwardly for a moment in bloodstained clothes before remembering Ron's words from first year, flicking his wand at himself with a forceful _scourgify_, his clothes rippling down his body as the scent of lavender drifted up from the newly cleaned clothing.

Sinking back into the bed and leaning against the headboard Harry let out a slow breath, "Now what?" he whispered to himself, "I can't go back to the Dursleys, the blood wards are useless. And I can't trust anyone else with this". Frowning Harry sat up as he recalled something his dorm-mate Seamus had said earlier that year, about how he had discovered he had a half-brother from his Dad's side when said half-brother had gone to Gringotts for an inheritance test. "How would I get to Gringotts though?" he asked himself slowly as he cast a _tempus_ again. Quickly coming up with a plan, Harry rolled out of the bed and left the Room of Requirement, heading back to the Gryffindor tower to shower and get changed.

His plans were derailed however as he stepped into the common room and half of Gryffindor house turned to stare at him, Harry's eyes quickly finding the dozens of copies of the Daily Prophet spread out in front of them all. Intending on ignoring them all, Harry started towards his dormitory only for a tall blonde student, Cormac McLaggen he believed, to move out and step in front of him.

"Is it true?" the arrogant blonde demanded as he shoved the Prophet at Harry who merely glanced down at the headline of 'You-Know-Who returned!'

"How would I know?" Harry asked lazily, feeling a surprising lack of emotion as he looked up to meet McLaggen's eyes, "The Daily Prophet has been telling lies for the past two years, how can we trust anything it says?"

"It says you were there" McLaggen snapped angrily.

"It also says that I'm a delusional liar" Harry countered, fully aware of the fact everyone in the common room was staring and listening to him.

"Now it's saying you're this 'Chosen One'" McLaggen pressed.

"And I bet next week I'll be a fish transfigured to look human" Harry deadpanned, smirking as McLaggen's eye started twitching.

"Is it true Harry? Are you prophesied to defeat You-Know-Who?" Seamus blurted making Harry glance over at his dorm-mate, "This 'Chosen One' that the Prophet speaks of?"

"No" Harry denied, "I'm not prophesied to defeat Voldemort, it's the Ministry trying to distract you from the fact that they were wrong. Besides" he continued as he stepped around McLaggen, "Even if I _was_ prophesied to defeat him, I wouldn't do it, I'm not going to fight for a world of cowards and traitors" he spat making half of the common room flinch back as the other half gaped openly at him.

"How can you say that?" a girl Harry had never seen before demanded, "You're the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"And yesterday I was the Boy-Who-Lied" Harry snapped, "You Wizard use me and then throw me aside when you're done with me, well now it's my turn. Pick up your fucking wand and fight Voldemort yourselves, because I'm done" he snarled, the words bubbling out from his mouth before he could stop them, Harry unable to find it within himself to not mean them even in the slightest. "It's time you reap what you sow, I'm not going to just roll over and forget what you've all done to me, this war? It's on you now, I've lost my entire family to it, I'm not sacrificing myself for _you_ when you'll just turn around the moment it's over and call me dangerous simply because I took down a Dark Lord!" he yelled out. "Voldemort can have Britain, at least he's less corrupt than the Ministry" he finished before turning on his heel and stalking up the stairs to his dorm, slamming the door shut behind him and collapsing back against it.

"Pull yourself together Harry" he growled out, slapping his face as he felt his fragile emotional state crumbling, "Dammit Harry!" he snapped as he hit himself again, shaking his head violently as he stumbled over to the bathroom, shoving his head under the sink and letting the cold water shock him back to reality.

Pulling away from the sink Harry stared up at his reflection in the mirror, faltering as he caught sight of the grey flecks in his otherwise green eyes. "Can you really leave them all to fight Voldemort on their own?" Harry asked himself slowly, digging deep inside himself for the answer, blinking in shock when he realised the truth, that everyone had a limit of what they could take lying down before they snapped, and that he had reached his.

Letting out a hoarse chuckle Harry turned away from the mirror, leaning back against the sink as he released his breath in a long slow movement, looking down at his hands with a small smile on his face as he remembered the way he had blown up Dumbledore's door. "I need to practice that" he mumbled to himself, "Boom" he deadpanned as he raised his hands and flicked them the way he had last night, a yelp escaping his lips as the door in front of him shattered, causing him to trip over his feet and hit the ground with a grunt, staring at the doorless hole in the wall leading to his dorm, "Oh, that's new" he exhaled in shock as he looked down at his hands once more, unable to stop the grin forming on his face as he flicked his hands experimentally again and Ron's bed (The only one he could see at the moment) exploded into shards of wood as an angry hoot echoed from the room.

Grimacing Harry scrambled to his feet and ran into the dorm room where he spotted an angry looking eagle owl glaring at him, a small package the size of his fist and a bulging letter attached to its leg. Pulling his wand hesitantly Harry flicked it at the owl, untying the two items with a silent spell that years of being the Boy-Who-Lived had taught him, not hesitating to send a couple of scanning spells at them before frowning as the spells came back clear.

Glancing towards the door Harry flicked his wand at it with a whispered "Colloportus", watching as the door shimmered white before turning back to the letter and the package on the desk, moving over cautiously and placing his wand down as he picked up the letter, stiffening at the familiar scrawl stating '_To my Pup'_ on the front of the ancient looking parchment. Opening the letter Harry pulled a blue crystal the size of his fist out of the envelope, staring at it for a moment as it started glowing, the intense yet calming blue light flashing in perfect harmony with the heartbeat pounding in his ears. Holding the crystal in one hand as the soothing warmth radiated through his body, Harry let his eyes move across the words, focusing on Sirius' handwriting as he absorbed none of the words, grateful for the chance to see something of Sirius' that wasn't his wide grey eyes as he fell through the veil.

"_Pup, if you're receiving this letter that means James, Lily, and I are all dead"_

Dropping the letter onto the desk Harry tightened his grip around the crystal in his hands as he turned his back on the desk and staggered over to collapse on his bed, obviously not as ready to read Sirius' letter as he had first thought.

"_I'm sorry for leaving you Pup"_ a smooth voice continued making Harry stiffen, his eyes slowly raising to stare at the tall blonde man standing in front of the desk, leaning against it as he read out Sirius' letter. "_And I know James and Lily would be feeling the same way. In the short time that the lovebirds have known you for they already love you as if you were their own son"_ the man read slowly, "_And my mind is full of ideas and plans of how to train you to be the best Mini-Marauder ever, I fully plan on corrupting you and setting you loose on the world as expected of me as your soon-to-be Godfather"_.

"Shut up" Harry growled out, slowly standing as his free hand clenched into a fist, "Leave that letter alone and get out. How did you even get in here in the first place?" he added darkly.

The man glanced up at him, blue eyes staring at him in a calculating manner before dropping back down to the letter like Harry hadn't even spoken. "_When Stefan approached the three of us we were sceptical on the existence of other species let alone other planets"_ the man continued, "_And yet once Stefan had willing taken veritaserum to prove it, we found ourselves being asked to adopt an alien baby and keep them safe. Pup, if you haven't guessed it already then obviously my influence on you was stronger than Lily's, but Pup… Harry… _you _are that baby"_.

Harry couldn't stop the snort that escaped his lips as the man paused and looked up at him knowingly, "Seriously? _That_ is what you come up with?" he drawled before shaking his head slowly, "You know what? I don't care, just get away from my things or else" he demanded, raising a hand to point it at the door, "Well? GET OUT!" he roared.

"_You're from a planet called Lorien" _the man said slowly making Harry's hand snap over to him and gesture sharply, the bed behind the man snapping cleaning in half with a surge of power. "_And you're what is known as a 'Garde', a subspecies of the Loric race that have been blessed by their planet in a similar way as to how we Wizards have. You and your 'Cepan', your protector, were one pair of nine of Garde children that were sent to Earth due to a war that has, by now, destroyed your home planet"_.

"SHUT UP!" Harry ordered, lashing out again and sending the broken bed across the room to shatter fully against the wall.

"You're getting angry" the man pointed out bluntly, "Stop".

"Excuse me?" Harry blurted, feeling shock rolling through his body as he calmed down against his will at the man's sheer audacity.

"Your emotions are your greatest strength and your greatest weakness" the man explained simply as he took a step towards Harry who stepped away instantly. "You're letting them get in the way of the truth".

"The truth?" Harry echoed, "That letter? It's rubbish!" he exclaimed as a hysterical laugh escaped his lips, "I'm a Wizard. I'm a Human! I'm not some alien! This is just it isn't it? I'm really as insane as the Prophet claims, I'm going crazy"

"How many scars do you have?" the man asked suddenly making Harry freeze, "On your right leg? How many scars do you have?"

"Two" Harry confessed slowly, wanting to get angry again but unable to gather up the energy to use his already exhausted emotions as a look of utter relief flashed across the man's face, "How?"

"How do I know?" the man finished, "My name is Stefan. I'm your Cêpan, your protector, your mentor" he introduced. "All nine of you have scars, the amount of scars you have on your right legs shows how many of you have been killed, if there are only two there it means that Three and Four are still alive and that we have time to start your training".

"What?" Harry asked dumbly, collapsing back down onto the bed as he watched the man study him.

"Corvan" 'Stefan' exhaled slowly, "Look at me. There is a species out there called the Mogadorians, they want to exterminate all Loric, there are at least thirteen of us left, you and six others are the only ones that can fight off the Mogadorians".

"Corvan?" Harry repeated, frowning up at Stefan as the man padded over to crouch down in front of him.

"It's your name. Your birth name at least" Stefan explained, "Not the name we gave you as part of your cover. You are Corvan of the Loric Garde".

"You are Number Five".

* * *

**NUMBER FIVE**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Out of this World**_**' challenge. I admit it, I'm a huge fan of the Lorien Legacies, and when I saw this challenge I couldn't resist making a Loric Garde Harry.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	13. Drowning

**Drowning** – Harry Potter.

* * *

"_Just, one more thing before I go Prongslet"_

_Harry faltered and glanced over his shoulder at his Godfather, the man looking strangely majestic sitting astride Buckbeak as he was._

"_Those dreams you're having" Sirius began making Harry's eyes widen in shock, having never told anyone about the dreams before, "The ones about drowning? Don't ignore them" he instructed slowly. "They're more important than you could ever know. Tonight, when you have another, don't fight it" he explained making Harry frown, "Let it take you wherever it's going, don't struggle, just let it happen. And breathe, you need to breathe" he added with a shrug._

"_How did you know? About the dreams?" Harry asked softly, staring at his Godfather who just shook his head and chuckled._

"_James told me about them" Sirius admitted, "He told me about them because he was afraid of what they would mean for you. It's natural Pup, they're supposed to happen and you just need to accept them"._

"_Okay. Then I guess I won't fight them" Harry promised slowly, willing to trust his Godfather on this after an entire year full of the nightly nightmares, "They won't hurt me will they?" he asked nervously._

"_They're only hurting you because you're fighting them" Sirius explained with a small smile, "I trust you to do the right thing, to make the choice. And no matter, whatever choice you do make, I'll be on your side"._

"_We'll find him" Harry blurted as Sirius turned away from him, "Pettigrew. We'll find him, and you'll be free, we'll be a family again"._

"_I don't need to be free to be family Harry" Sirius replied simply before kicking Buckbeak's side with a loud 'Hyaa!', the hippogriff freezing and twisting to shoot Sirius an unimpressed look. "Sorry, I've always wanted to do that" his Godfather mumbled sheepishly making Buckbeak huff and break into a run, wings spreading as he took off, vanishing into the clouds rapidly._

Harry's eyes snapped open as the engine to his Uncle's car cut off, Vernon scowling at him over his shoulder as Harry sat up and stretched slowly, purposely taking his time to infuriate his fat Uncle.

"Get your things in the house _now_ Freak" Vernon ordered, heaving his weight out of the car as Harry slid out gracefully by comparison, "And no talking".

Rolling his eyes Harry pulled his trunk out of the boot, having left his owl cage at Hogwarts, not planning on actually needing it as Hedwig took a long flight home, grateful for the last chance to spread her wings. Pulling his trunk after his Uncle, Harry barely had time to step into the house before he was throwing himself to the side to avoid Vernon's fist.

"You might want to shut the door Uncle" Harry pointed out coldly as he made his way back to his feet, "You wouldn't want the neighbours to see this would you?"

"Don't you _dare_ talk back to me _Freak_" Vernon rumbled as he slammed the front door and locked it with a victorious look on his face as footsteps made Harry glance up the staircase to where Dudley was waiting for a bloodthirsty grin on his face.

"Freak. Original" Harry deadpanned, slowly rolling up his sleeves, "Shall we just get this over and done with now or do you want to wait till after dinner?" he asked innocently.

Vernon's roar was all the answer Harry needed, both him and his Uncle raising their hands at the same time, but unlike his Uncle Harry was standing there with a smirk as his other hand rose up to point at Dudley as well when the mini-whale stepped forward with a scowl on his face. "I'll take that as option A" Harry drawled as he looked between his frozen Uncle and cousin in amusement, both of their faces red, their eyes wide and fearful as they tried and failed to break through grip Harry's power had on them.

"You see Uncle Vernon" Harry began slowly, "Recently I've been having these dreams, and they've been rather _wet_" he explained, "Now before you begin to panic, you don't need to give the 'You're becoming a man' talk since unlike you both I actually know how to read" he taunted. "No, these dreams involve me _drowning_ which is why they're wet. And after Sirius, that's Sirius Black, the mass murderer? Yeah he's my Godfather, lovely man, great influence" he continued, 'accidentally' forgetting to mention how Sirius was actually innocent, "But after he gave me some advice I accepted the dreams and since then I've found that I've got this neat little power that allows me to do things like this".

Vernon started ranting deep in his throat, Harry watching his Uncle with a bemused look on his face as the fat man's voice sounded more like a growl in the back of his throat instead of actual words.

"Yeah I can't hear you" Harry said simply, "But that's okay, since it's _my_ turn to talk. Do you understand Vermin?" he asked casually, "Blink once for yes" he instructed making his Uncle blink quickly. "Good walrus" Harry taunted lazily, "Now this is what's going to happen around here. You and your obese little progeny are going to pretend I don't exist, which means unfortunately for you, that somebody else is going to do _all_ the chores" he ordered, "You all pretend I don't exist and I'll stay in my room and return the favour. We don't have anything to do with each other and you'll survive the holidays before I leave again. Do you understand?" he asked slowly making his Uncle started rant-rumbling again.

Sighing Harry twisted his hand into a fist making Vernon freeze instantly, his eyes going fearful again as choking noises were pulled from his throat. "Fun fact. The human body is made up of around 60% water, meaning that when I concentrate, just so, I can slowly pull the water from your body and make you drown in it" he spat out darkly as his Uncle spluttered and choked on the water Harry was forcing into his lungs.

Releasing the water back into his Uncle's body Harry smiled innocently, "Now you know what I'm capable of, I'll ask again" he decided politely, "Do, you, understand, me?" he growled out as his Uncle stared at him in horror.

Blink.

"Good boy" Harry drawled as he released his Uncle from his control, "Now go sit down in the living room while I have a little talk with Dudley" he ordered, beginning to turn away only for Vernon to lunge forward instantly, a fist slamming into Harry's jaw.

Letting out a furious snarl Harry lashed out, a hand latching onto his Uncle's face making the fat man's hands freeze around his neck. "Let me go Uncle" Harry ordered coldly as he gestured with one hand, controlling the water in Vernon's body and using it to force his hands away from his throat, "Now. I think we misunderstood each other a little bit don't you?" Harry asked slowly as he used the same technique to back Vernon away from him even further, "Let me explain".

Twisting his hand into a claw, Harry backed his Uncle against the wall, smirking at the man as his Uncle gasped and spluttered through the water building up in his lungs again, "You are drowning, slowly and painfully" he explained for the stupid obese man. "And only one person, me, can stop it" he continued as his Uncle started choking once more, "And this one person, once again me, gave you a _very_ simple order. Wouldn't you say it was within your best interests to _follow_ said order?" he asked pointedly, no longer needing to control the water in his Uncle's body to keep him still.

When Vernon nodded rapidly Harry copied him, "Yeah, it's not rocket science" he agreed, "Even Dudley managed to get it" he pointed out, gesturing over his shoulder at where Dudley was standing frozen on the staircase, Harry's power having long been redirected to focus solely on Vernon. "So my question Uncle Vermin, is _why _didn't you follow that order?" he asked slowly, his Uncle spluttering and gasping weakly through the water in his lungs, "Do try use proper words Uncle, you're embarrassing me with your caveman speak" Harry taunted.

Dropping his hand Harry watched as his Uncle rolled over and threw up, water pouring out of his mouth as Harry stood and backed away. "Now Uncle, _do you understand_?" he asked one final time, not willing to give his Uncle another chance.

When his Uncle nodded quickly Harry smirked and moved over to pick up his trunk from where it was still lying next to the door, "I'll be in my room" he informed his Uncle and cousin, the later scrambling out of the way as Harry climbed the stairs and walked past him. Entering his room and throwing his trunk at the base of his bed, Harry threw himself down onto the hard mattress, faltering with a frown, "Well that's going to have to change" he murmured slowly before smirking and tucking his arms underneath his head.

"For once I think I enjoy being me".

* * *

**DROWNING**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Elemental Harry**_**' challenge. Elemental Harry might be a cliché for fanfiction, but it's a cliché that I kind of like, so I threw together my own one. I doubt it will be my last.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	14. Luminescence

**Luminescence** – Harry Potter/Percy Jackson.

* * *

Lily Potter couldn't help but beam as she watched her son gnawing on his favourite plush toy, the black wolf that his Godfather Sirius Black had bought for his first birthday, a series of happy noises escaping her son's mouth as he looked up to see her standing in the doorway.

Letting out a noise that Lily translated as 'Mama!' when spoken through a toy, Harry started reaching for her, the toy stuck firmly in his mouth as he made grabby gestures at her. Smiling at her son Lily started forward and scooped him out of the crib, laughing along with Harry as he let out a screeching laugh at the swinging movement she made as she tucked him against her chest.

"How's my little man?" she cooed as Harry took the wolf toy out of his mouth, the black-haired infant pausing for a moment with a confused expression before sneezing suddenly, Lily blinking down at her son in shock as he just shook his head to clear it and began babbling loudly at her. As she smiled and nodded seriously she watched as Harry's attention was pulled from her and focused on something behind her instead, his pupils going wide as he stared up at the ceiling. Slowly glancing up over her shoulder Lily rolled her eyes at the new centre of Harry's attention, "How is a light bulb more important than Mama?" she asked indignantly.

"-igh bulb" Harry echoed making her pause, her mouth opening to call for James when suddenly the aforementioned light bulb went out, Lily freezing in shock for a moment before it flickered back on, a glowing ball of light held tight in Harry's fist. "Igh bulb!" Harry repeated proudly as he waved his hand through the air, Lily staring down at him for a moment before she was looking up to blink at the dark light bulb.

"James!" Lily yelled, turning and darting towards the door, making sure not to jostle Harry too much as he poked curiously at the small warmth ball of light in his hand. "James look at this" she exhaled when she and her husband almost ran into each other in the hallway, a panicked look on James' face that she felt guilty for a split second before she remembered Harry. "One second he was staring at the light bulb and next second it went out and he did this" she explained slowly as Harry started playing with the ball, James reaching out to catch it with an awed look on his face, the black-haired man quickly returning it to his son when Harry's face screwed up.

"It's not a lumos" James whispered as he smiled gently down at Harry, "Lumos is just light, that was warm".

"Like a light bulb James" Lily pointed out proudly, both of them beaming down at Harry as the boy's face scrunched up in concentration, the ball of light slowly bleeding a familiar shade of green. "He's going to be a very powerful wizard isn't he?" she asked as they both watched Harry changing the light ball's colour at will.

"Babies are like this Lily" James dismissed uncertainly, "They have the almost unrivalled ability to use accidental magic at will".

"I didn't do things like this, neither did you according to your mother" Lily countered knowingly, "I still remember all the stories she told me about your accidental magic when we got engaged" she clarified as James blushed awkwardly, "Do you think it's his powers? His Demigod ones?"

"I don't know; do they normally manifest this young?" James asked slowly.

"Well I was always cuter than Petunia growing up" Lily confessed slowly, a wicked look forming on her face, "But I never did anything like what you did".

"I was two years old" James muttered as he turned and started back towards the stairs.

"You kidnapped your neighbour's baby and named him 'Floofy'!" Lily called after him, grinning at his whined 'Shut up!'

Heading after her husband Lily settled down onto the sofa beside him, setting Harry down in the playpen next to the couch, leaving him to play with his ball of light as she turned to watch James as he returned to weaving a spell on a block of wood in front of him. Smiling gently as she watched her husband work Lily frowned as she felt the familiar 'ping' of someone stepping through the wards on the house, not recalling one of the Marauders promising to visit Lily stood and moved over to the window before peering out the curtain, dread rising up in her stomach as she spun around to face the curious looking James, "He's here" was all she got out before James was leaping to his feet and snatching up Harry, pushing him into her arms and beginning to herd her towards the staircase.

As the door blew open James spun around, "I'll hold him off" he promised softly as she tightened her grip on Harry and sprinted up the stairs, their son squirming in her arms as she heard shouted spells being thrown around the living room.

"Oh Merlin" Lily blurted as she darted into the nursery and slammed the door behind her, a snarled '_Avada Kedavra'_ echoing in her ears. "It's okay Harry" she whispered as she moved over to place him in his crib, "Everything's gonna be fine" she promised as she slowly dropped to her knees.

"Gods of Olympus" she whispered slowly as she raised tear-filled eyes to the ceiling, "Hear me! Protect my son, protect my Harry, and I swear on the Styx that I will dedicate my life to serving you" she cried out as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, "Please! I beg of you! Someone! Mum! Please!" she sobbed out, spinning to her feet as the door was blasted open, Voldemort's red eyes glaring at her from the doorway.

"Your Gods cannot help you now" the Dark Lord hissed as he stepped into the room, "You pathetic Mudblood".

Sniffing Lily raised her jaw higher, "My blood is of Olympus, it's ten times purer than yours" she countered strongly.

"_Demigod_" Voldemort snarled out as he raised his wand to point it at her, "Severus had asked me to let you live, but _creatures_ like you disgust me".

Mentally pocketing the part about Severus Lily instead put on her best sneer, "And half-blooded _freaks_ like you disgust me" she snapped, "_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ she screamed, a brilliant beam of green light exploding from the tip of her wand and leaping forward to strike Voldemort in the chest, a shocked expression forming on her face as the Dark Lord swayed backwards.

"Nice try" Voldemort whispered making her freeze, "But you have to _mean_ it. You have to really want them dead" he explained innocently. Before Lily could react there was a flash of light and she was being lifted off her feet and slammed into the wall, magic pinning her against it as she watched Voldemort smirk and turn back to face Harry in his crib, the fifteen-month old infant staring at the Dark Lord with a serious look of disgust on his face.

"Like so" Voldemort dead-panned, "_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

As green light flashed through the room Lily heard as clear as day a gentle voice whisper "_Would you give your life to me for as long as you lived?" _in her mind, her eyes adjusting to the flash of green to see the Killing Curse was mere inches from hitting Harry and the entire room seemed to have frozen in time.

"For as long as I lived and beyond" Lily promised quickly, realising quickly that one of the Gods had answered her prayers, hopefully being Harry's true father.

"_And you would pay any price?"_ the voice asked gently.

"Anything to save him" Lily agreed instantly, "Please".

As she watched a pillar of light shown down from the ceiling, taking the form of a breathtakingly gorgeous blonde man, two swirling suns taking the place of his eyes as the God slowly moved over to Harry and reached out to pluck the Killing Curse from the air. Turning around the God raised his hand and lazily threw the Killing Curse at Voldemort, an unearthly shriek exploding from the man's mouth as a black wraith escaped the disintegrating body.

Returning his attention to Harry, Lily watched as the God bent over her son, "_He has been touched by the Killing Curse"_ the God said softly, light shining from his mouth as if he was just a piece of skin surrounding a mass of light, "_I cannot save him" _he apologized making Lily's heart sink. "_But I can sacrifice his divine side to give him a mortal life"_ the God offered, "_He would have no magic, no powers, but he would be alive"_.

Even as Lily's mouth opened to agree, a brilliant golden light shone down from the ceiling around Harry, the God stepping back quickly as the light turned blinding and Harry was taken from her sight for a moment, the light turning into a vortex that swirled around her son before being sucked into a point on his forehead, a lightning bolt mark above his right eye visible even to her where she was pinned against the wall.

"_It seems Lord Jupiter has blessed your son"_ the God informed her seriously as he started towards Lily, "_Young Hadrian will lead a healthy life with both magic and divine power. But now for my price"_ the God continued making Lily freeze, not regretting her promise but still a little nervous about what it might cost.

Before she knew what was happening the God was leaning forward and lightly brushing his lips across hers, moving up before she could react to the kiss and brushing his lips across both of her eyes before vanishing suddenly as Lily's body slid down the wall in shock.

Blinking slowly Lily scrambled to her feet and shot over to snatch up her wand and pick up Harry, brushing his fringe out of the way to see the softly glowing lightning bolt scar on his forehead, a single green eye staring at her from the left side of his face while his right eye was a brilliant sky-blue colour. "Oh Harry" she exhaled as she cupped her dazed looking son's face, "I'm so sorry".

Harry's response was to clap his hands and conjure up a ball of light similar to the one he had before, giggling as he played with it, most likely having already completely forgotten about what had just happened in a way that only a baby could.

"I'm so sorry" Lily repeated again, turning to stare at the pile of ash and the yew wand that used to be Voldemort, "I'm so sorry".

* * *

**LUMINESCENCE**

* * *

**Based on Gabriel Herrol's '**_**A Roman Half-Blood**_**' challenge. I'm beginning to run out of things to say here, so I'm just going to stop.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	15. Wildfire

**Wildfire** – Harry Potter/Percy Jackson.

* * *

_**S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D**_

_**Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter**_

Harry stared at it.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?"

He glanced along at the other labels on that stretch of shelf.

"I'm not here" he said, sounding perplexed. "None of us are".

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it" said Hermione sharply, as he stretched out his hand.

"Why not?" he said, "It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Don't, Harry" said Neville suddenly. Harry looked at him. Neville's round face was shining suddenly with sweat. He looked as though he could not take much more suspense.

"It's a Prophecy" Luna's voice chirped making them all jump, having forgotten about the odd girl's presence as they turned to face her.

"Dad told me about Prophecies!" Ron blurted as his face lit up, "They can only be picked up by the people they're about, uh not all of them come true, something about every one in five Prophecies come true I think he said".

"Harry" Hermione began hesitantly, "If a Prophecy can only be picked up by the people it's about, then why would your dream just 'happen' to lead you to the one with your and Voldemort's name on it?"

"Well it's not like You-Know-Who can just waltz into the Ministry and take it is it?" Neville pointed out slowly.

"I think he's more of a tango person actually" Luna dead-panned.

"Which means that this is a trap" Hermione whispered, ignoring Luna's comment as Harry fought to keep the grin off his face, "We need to get out of here Harry, now".

"We're already here, we might as well see what the fuss is about" Harry corrected, "Besides, we could always just put it back or smash it if Voldemort shows up to claim it can't we?"

"I don't know" Hermione murmured as she chewed at her lip, a gesture that instantly caught Harry's attention and made the back of his neck and ears heat up.

"I wonder what it says?" Ron mumbled to himself, the lack of subtly in his voice making everyone roll their eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm grabbing it" Harry muttered, reaching for the orb and letting out a yelp as electricity arced out from the Prophecy and into his hand the second his fingers brushed up against the warm surface of the glass sphere. "Merlin! What was that?" he demanded, sticking his finger into his mouth to suck on the burning tips of his fingers, "Are they warded or something?"

"Let me try" Hermione declared, reaching out and hissing in pain as she got shocked too, "Ow that hurt. Maybe there's a security system set up at night?" she suggested slowly.

"Or maybe you're not Harry Potter" Ron's voice said darkly, "Only the people the Prophecy is about can pick them up".

"Yeah I tried that Ron" Harry reminded him as he turned to face the redhead, freezing at the wand pointing in his face, "Put your wand down Ron. _Now_".

"Why should I?" Ron countered angrily, "You're not Harry Potter!"

"Ron! Harry's been with us since he had the vision" Hermione exclaimed, "There's no way he was replaced with a Death Eater or something, and why would they even do that?"

"I don't know! Ask him!" Ron countered, "He's the imposter here!"

"No I'm not!" Harry snapped in annoyance, "You've known me since First Year Ron!".

"Oh yeah? Then pick up the Prophecy" Ron ordered, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Rolling his eyes Harry turned back to the Prophecy, reaching out and trying to resist the pain for a moment, almost managing to grip the orb properly before he was being blasted back into Hermione with a yelp. "I don't- I don't understand" he gasped out as Hermione helped him stand up, "I _am_ Harry Potter".

"Maybe, maybe you're adopted?" Hermione suggested nervously as Harry eyed the glaring Ron cautiously.

"Then why do I look like my father with my mother's eyes?" Harry pointed out.

"Glamour spell?' Hermione offered with a shrug, "I don't know Harry".

"Don't call him that" Ron snapped, "He's not Harry".

"Yes Ron, he is" Hermione snapped back, turning to glare at the redhead, "He was raised as Harry Potter, he believes he's Harry Potter. He _is _Harry Potter".

"I have to be" Harry murmured as he stared at the Prophecy, "My Hogwarts letter was addressed to Harry Potter. The Sorting called me Harry Potter. The Goblins!" he blurted turning to grasp Hermione's arm, "In Third year, when I had to stay in Diagon Alley, Mrs Weasley still had my key so I had to perform a blood test to prove who I was! It said I was Harry Potter" he explained.

"So you're Harry Potter, just not _that_ Harry Potter?" Neville clarified making Harry nod quickly, "I don't get it".

"Neither do I" Harry confessed sheepishly, "But I don't know what else to think".

"Well, well, well" a familiar voice drawled from the shadows, all of them spinning around to see a black-robed figure stepping into view, a bone-white mask on his face as the six of them were slowly surrounded by Death Eaters. "Harry Potter isn't the man we thought" the Death Eater purred as he vanished his mask to revealing a smirking Lucius Malfoy, "How _interesting_".

"I _am_ Harry Potter" Harry snapped, trying to push away the growing feeling of 'Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god' that was rising up in his chest.

"But you're not" Lucius corrected, "Or you would have picked up the Prophecy as the Dark Lord brought you here to do".

"The Dar- I'm Harry Potter" Harry blurted, brushing off the admittance of what the six of them already suspected, "You're wrong" he insisted.

"Then pick up the Prophecy" Lucius countered as his eyebrow rose, "If you can" he added with a dark smirk twisting his lips.

"Poor baby" a crazy voice called, "Little Potter ain't a Potter".

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, wand flicking up and sending a _Stupefy_ at the woman, Bellatrix Lestrange, who cackled as she lazily deflected the spell, not batting an eye as it hit another Death Eater causing him to drop to the floor like a limp rag. "You did something!" he accused, a panic building up in his chest, "You must have".

"The Dark Lord will be displeased" Lucius murmured, ignoring Harry's accusation as he turned to raise an eyebrow at Bellatrix who raised her raised her hand to place a finger on the Dark Mark, pouting up at Lucius before a smirk slowly crossed her face as she turned to face them.

"If he's not Potter then there's no need for him to stay alive is there?" Bellatrix purred innocently, "Because if not then I want him".

When Lucius only rolled his eyes as a thoughtful look appeared on his face, Harry raised his wand and screamed "_BOMBARDA_ _MAXIMA_!" As the Death Eaters scattered to avoid the spell Harry threw couple of _Reducto_s at the supports of the shelves, his friends quickly joining in before they all turned and ran, spells flying over their shoulders as the regrouping Death Eaters.

"GO! EVERYONE GET TO THE ATRIUM!" Harry yelled as a Death Eater appeared in front of them and they were forced to split up, Harry darting down an aisle with the ever serene Luna who was sending dangerous-looking pink spells at the two Death Eaters chasing them. "_Stupefy_! _Petrificus Totalus_! _Stupefy_!" Harry cast at the Death Eaters, grinning to himself for a split second as they hit before Luna was grabbing his arm and dragging him down another aisle, scanning the shelves as if she was looking for something.

"Harry" Luna hissed pulling his attention to her, "You're not Harry Potter, but a name is just a name" she continued, "And yours was given to you by Mr and Mrs Potter. Take the Prophecy Harry" she ordered, her finger rising to point at the golden orb on the shelf in front of them.

_**Apollo; God of Prophecy to Hestia; Goddess of the Hearth  
Percy Jackson and Alexander Smith**_

Harry blinked at the differently coloured Prophecy for a moment before turning to stare at Luna in confusion, "Pick up. The Prophecy" Luna repeated slowly, a serious look in her eyes. "NOW!" she yelled making him scramble to obey, his fingers wrapping around the surprisingly warm sphere and turning the white mist a cheerful gold, his stomach sinking even further at the implication that he could pick this Prophecy up but not the one with his name on it.

"This isn't possible" Harry mumbled as he stared at the glowing Prophecy, "I'm just dreaming".

"No Harry. You're not" Luna corrected simply, "_Stupefy_!" she screamed as she pointed her wand over his shoulder. "I know you're having an existential crisis and all, but do you mind postponing it so we can live long enough to see its end?" Luna dead-panned before sending a _Reducto_ over Harry's other shoulder, making him spin around and cast a _Bombarda _at the Death Eater that was trying to peer around the corner.

"What does this mean?" Harry demanded turning back to Luna and waving the Prophecy in her face, "Tell me _now_".

"It means Harry James Potter died when he was two months old" Luna said bluntly, "Mrs Potter stole you from a Muggle woman the same day when you used accidental magic to summon your bottle to you after dropping it in the hospital".

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry whirled around in time to take a Killing Curse in his chest, blinking down at himself in shock before lashing out with his wand, slashing it up across his chest with a snarled out "_DIFFINDO_" watching as the blue magic cut straight through the Death Eater's shield. As a line of blood appeared on the Death Eater's throat, Harry found his own one closing up as he stood there stiffly, watching as the Death Eater's head just tipped backwards and fell straight off, leaving both himself and Luna staring in horror.

"I didn't mean to do that" Harry whispered softly, turning to stare at Luna desperately, "You know I didn't".

"I know" Luna assured him with a soft smile, patting his cheek gently, "I know".

"It- It says Apollo, and Hestia" Harry began, trying to distract himself from what he had just done, "Does this mean-"

"The Greek Gods are real" Luna interrupted, "So are the Romans, the Egyptians and the Norse" she listed with a shrug, "And you are a Demigod Harry, the son of a God and a Mortal. I'll explain everything to you once we get out of here Harry, we don't have the time right now" she promised making Harry stare at her for a moment before nodding. Pocketing the Prophecy Harry followed Luna down the aisle, his wand at the ready and a stunning spell at the tip of his tongue, not willing to cast another potentially fatal spell after what had just happened.

"Who's Percy Jackson?" Harry blurted as he and Luna burst into a room that reminded him of a classroom, row upon row of marble benches tiered around the centre platform, a large brazier in the middle of the platform in the middle of the room.

"The other person mentioned in the Prophecy" Luna admitted simply, "And no, I don't know what the Prophecy says" she added making Harry's mouth snap shut in time for their wands to fly up as Hermione and Neville burst into the room just one aisle along from them.

"DEATH EATERS!" Hermione screamed moments before a burst of black smoke flew into the room after them.

"_Ekrixi"_ Luna exclaimed, a green sphere of light exploding from her wand and shooting across the room and striking the reforming Death Eater, an explosion tearing through the air as the Death Eater was blasted into the wall where he passed out.

"_Stupefy!"_ Ginny's voice echoed, making them all spin around to see a Death Eater being thrown through the third door in the strange altar-room, her and Ron climbing over the unconscious body and relaxing at the sight of them.

"We need to get out of here" Harry declared, starting towards the stage in the centre, "I don't suppose anyone remembered to trail breadcrumbs?" he asked innocently as they all regrouped.

"How would that help?" Neville asked slowly, a look of confusion on his face as Harry and Hermione exchanged amused looks.

"Never-mind Neville, I'll explain later" Hermione promised quietly, "And no, sorry Harry, but I kind of got to turned around to remember where I was".

"Same here" Ginny admitted sheepishly.

"You can take us home Harry" Luna chirped, "You just need to concentrate on your home, on Hogwarts, and you'll be taken there".

"You can't apparate in the Ministry building" Hermione corrected instantly, "And even if he could he's not old enough or licensed to, it's illegal".

"So is impersonation" Ron muttered darkly making Harry's jaw clench.

"Is it impersonation when you truly believe you're that person?" Harry demanded, turning to glare at his old best friend, "What if you were raised believing your name was Ron, but then out of nowhere your Mum tells you that your first name is actually Lucy!" he yelled, "How would that be your fault? How is it my fault that I might be adopted?"

"Alexander" Luna said gently, making Harry frown at her for a moment before remembering the name on the Prophecy, "Hestia is the Goddess of the Hearth and the Ho-"

Pillars of black smoke cut Luna off, all of them backing towards the brazier as the smoke circled the room before forming into several Death Eaters, Lucius and Bellatrix reforming in front of Harry with smirks on their faces. "Oh look at you, all big and tough" Lucius drawled, "Now Potter, give me the Prophecy in your pocket, and I won't kill your friends" he bartered.

"The Prophe- you picked it up?" Hermione hissed behind him.

"Harry" Luna whispered, "Trust your instincts, not your mind".

"Come on Potter" Lucius pressed as Harry just stood there stiffly, "Give. Me. The Prophecy" he ordered.

"Harry!" Neville pressed, "Don't give it to him".

"Harry" Luna whispered, "Follow your heart".

"HURRY UP POTTER!" Bellatrix screeched even as Harry's hand started towards his pocket.

"Alexander" Luna said simply making Harry freeze.

"Guys" Harry murmured out of the corner of his lips, "Get down" he ordered, watching as Luna, Neville, and Ginny instantly dropped to the ground, Hermione taking a second longer as she pulled Ron down when he refused to listen.

"See? Your friends know when to give up" Lucius sneered as Harry pulled out the Prophecy and held it out, absently dropping his wand to the floor so he had a free hand as Malfoy strode forward and reached for the Prophecy. Hand outstretched Lucius froze and blinked down at the golden sphere in confusion "This isn't the Prophecy" he corrected darkly.

"It's my Prophecy" Harry corrected, twisting and throwing it to the ground, shattering it into pieces as he continued the movement, making a grabbing gesture at the air before finishing the spin and thrusting his hand at Lucius who raised an eyebrow at him in amusement seconds before the fire in the brazier launched itself out of the metal container and straight into the blonde's face. Spinning around Harry vaulted into the brazier, the fire doing nothing but crackling around him and filling him with energy as he raised his hands and willed it to rise, feeling it moving like an extension of himself as he brought his hands to his chest for a split second before thrusting them out to his sides, a ripple of fire exploding from the brazier and rolling out from the centre of the room, forcing the Death Eaters to either leave or be burnt alive.

As a wave of exhaustion hit Harry, he stumbled to the side and clambered over the edge of the brazier, hitting the ground beside Luna who was smiling happily to herself as she stared up at the ceiling, laying on her back with her hands beneath her head.

"So" he gasped out, "Hestia was it?"

* * *

**WILDFIRE**

* * *

**Based on BaraktheSlayer's '**_**Forbidden**__**Child**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	16. Fort Olympia

**Fort Olympia** – Harry Potter/Percy Jackson.

* * *

Harry Potter's eyes flickered open as he shifted slowly on his bed, stretching stiff limbs as he blinked slowly up at the ceiling.

Feeling strangely lethargic, Harry turned his head to the side to stare at the back of his Aunt Petunia who was sitting at the desk in his room, Hedwig perching in front of her staring at the letter expectantly. As he watched with a confused frown, Petunia rolled up the piece of paper and handed it over to Hedwig who gripped it gently in one talon and hopped over to the edge of the table to take off and swoop out the open window.

Standing up his Aunt slipped the pen into her pocket and picked up what Harry recognised as the first-aid kit, turning to face him and letting out a scream as she dropped the kit, throwing herself backwards as her hand came up to clutch at her chest. "Finally awake are you?" she hissed as she visibly calmed herself down, scowling at him as she snatched up the first-aid kit.

"What?" Harry croaked out as he sat up slowly, hissing in pain as his ribs and stomach clenched violently at the movement. "I've been back for two days," he groaned, "And I haven't slept a full night in over a month, _please_ just give me a break Aunt Petunia," he exhaled hopefully as he glanced towards the window to see the sun was up, implying that he had actually managed to fall asleep and stay that way last night.

"You've been sleeping for almost a week," Petunia snapped, sneering down at him as he turned to stare at her in shock, "I tried to wake you but you wouldn't even stir, if it weren't for your heartbeat I'd have thought you were dead".

"A week?" Harry blurted as he threw back the blankets and swung his legs out onto the floor, flinching at the feeling of the cold wood beneath his feet, "I've really been sleeping for a week? Is that even possible?"

"Don't ask me," Petunia sniffed rudely, "I don't know how you freaks act," she spat before heading towards the door.

"You know, child abuse is more freakish than I am," Harry snapped after her, watching as she froze in the doorway and turned to glare at him darkly.

"We've given you nothing you haven't deserved," Petunia hissed furiously.

"You've abused me for no reason than because I'm different," Harry countered, "Why?"

Instead of answering Petunia's jaw raised stubbornly, "Vernon has gone to pick up Marge. Now hurry up and have a shower. Be warned boy, if you let slip about your _freakishness_ on her you'll find yourself out on the street," she declared before she spun around and stomped out of the room, yelling out "AND FIX YOUR EYES FREAK!" before slamming the door behind her, making him snort as he collapsed back onto his bed.

"That's what I thought," he muttered under his breath as he raised his hands to slip them under his head. "Stupid blood wards," he added before grimacing as he caught a whiff of his underarms, the smell of sweat more than proving Petunia's claims of him sleeping for an entire week. "Ew," he drawled as he rolled to his feet, stumbling over to the mirror to check what his Aunt meant by 'fix his eyes', freezing as he blinked into the mirror, two black irises staring back at him.

"Oh," he exhaled slowly, "This is bad".

Raising his hands hesitantly Harry slowly poked and prodded at his face, hoping it was just a trick of the light as he turned his face to the sides so he could inspect it fully. Was this due to his strange week-long coma or was there another reason? He _had_ been feeling a little off recently, the entire train ride home he had spent napping after all, only waking to hex Malfoy. Leaning in closer Harry frowned as he realised he could still see darker and lighter flecks in his irises, like he was only wearing black contact lenses or something.

After poking himself in the eye to disprove that theory, Harry grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom, eyeing his black-eyed reflection nervously as if it were going to jump out and attack him at any moment. As he stepped into the shower Harry froze, his mind finally connecting what his Aunt had said about his Uncle picking Marge up.

"Oh Merlin, not her".

* * *

"I thought I told you to fix your eyes!"

Harry's jaw clenched as he forced himself to and _not_ snap back at his Aunt, "I'm going to stay up in my room, I can't fix this without using magic and I'm not allowed to do that," he explained slowly. "Unless you want Marge asking questions about why my eyes have suddenly turned black," he continued as Petunia's lips pursed.

"Fine, make yourself something to eat now then," Petunia ordered, "I don't want you down here when she is until you've fixed it".

"As long as you keep her out of my room," Harry countered, not budging from his spot in the door-frame, "And I've got a form I need you to sign first," he added pulling his Hogsmeade form from his pocket, his Aunt snatching it and quickly signing it with a pen she pulled from her pocket.

"There," Petunia spat, shoving form back at him without even reading it, "Now make a sandwich, _one_ sandwich and get to your room," she demanded.

Quickly obeying his Aunt, Harry made his dinner and darted back upstairs, grateful for an excuse to stay away from his so called 'Aunt Marge'. He still remembered with painful clarity the day that she had sat there drinking wine and laughing as she set her dog on him. And despite what he had said earlier about not being allowed to use magic, he wouldn't hesitate to pull his wand out and curse the both of them. Self-defence was a thing right? He couldn't get expelled for defending himself against an abusive bitch could he?

Heading towards his room with Petunia right behind him Harry didn't even bat an eye when he heard the door being locked behind him, instead throwing himself down on his bed with a smirk, planning on getting all his homework done so he could honestly tell Hermione that he had completed it early. Shoving his sandwich into his mouth Harry reached out for his charms book, opening it back up to the chapter on glamour charms, wondering if it was possible that he had just used accidental magic to change his eye colour somehow.

And if Harry managed to learn how to replicate that purposely then that'd be even better that when he learned how to cast a wandless Lumos charm.

* * *

When the lock snapped open Harry froze, closing his eyes as he focused on pushing the 'film' away from his eyes, his eyes feeling weaker and more exposed as the door swung open.

"You still here then?" Marge's voice drawled from the doorway, a familiar slur to her voice that indicated she was drunk.

Sighing slowly Harry turned around to meet her eyes, knowing she'd only yell if he ignored her, "I am," he agreed simply.

Marge let out a snort as movement made Harry's eyes flick down to her feet, Ripper the Bulldog cowering behind Marge's cankles, trembling as he peered around to stare at Harry in obvious fear. "Bloody good of my brother to keep you it was, if you'd been dumped on my doorstep it'd have been straight to an orphanage if I could even be bothered going _that_ far," she taunted, waiting for him to react with an almost vindictive look of glee in her eyes.

"Of yes he kept me out of the goodness of his heart," Harry agreed slowly, "I'm sure the twelve-hundred-pound allowance he got fortnightly for my care had nothing to do with it," he dead-panned, having discovered that little titbit year at Gringotts. And whether he had threatened his Uncle with that knowledge to make the fat man behave then you better have proof because Harry 'ain't singing'.

"And where would _you_ get that kind of money from? You're just an unwanted orphan," Marge snapped.

"Before they were murdered my father was a captain in the police force and my mother was an assistant teacher," Harry corrected politely, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing her words hurt, "They made sure I had money".

"No wonder you're such a no-gooder, all that money's gone to your head," Marge sniffed. "Just like your parents I bet, it'll be your mother's fault too," she continued making Harry stiffen, his hand flexing as he wished he had access to his wand, "Like I've always told Vernon, if there's something wrong with the bitch then there's something wrong with the pup".

"You would know all about that wouldn't you?" Harry growled out, turning a furious glare on the victorious looking Marge, the room darkening as she faltered, realising something was up. "It's no wonder you never had any kids, imagine how fucked up they'd be with _you_ for a mother," he snarled out, "Now get out of my room before I throw you out," he ordered coldly, "NOW".

Before Harry could react and with startling speed for a woman her size, Marge had launched herself across the room and backhanded him across the jaw, knocking him against the wall. Pushing himself up and cracking his neck to hear it crack, Harry's mind gleefully declared it was self-defence time, the nearly fourteen-year-old smirking up at Marge as he released the 'barrier' holding his black eyes at bay, the room getting even darker as Marge's look of disgust turned into one of fear.

As a loud howling filled Harry's ears he felt a surge of energy rushing through his body, a dark growling by his ear making him start as he slowly turned his head to stare at the red-eyed dog-like creature that was stepping out of the shadowed corner, another of the strange hounds crawling out from behind his bed as a third one nudged open the doors of his closet.

As Marge let out a whimper Ripper spun around and shot out of the room yelping, Harry lying there frozen in horror as he watched the three hounds diving at Marge and knocking her over, blood spraying through the air as they tore her apart. Wanting to vomit but not being able to move, Harry was helpless to watch as two of the hounds bolted out of his bedroom door as the first one stepped over to him and nudged his hand gently, making him instinctively raise it to scratch the hound behind a bat-like ear, flinching as two more screams echoed through the house, both of them being cut off suddenly.

Harry let out a scream of his own as the hound he was hesitantly petting suddenly turned and sank its teeth into Harry's arm, the hound twisting and bodily flinging Harry over his shoulder as the other two creatures burst back into the room to the sound of someone banging on the front door. As the hound leapt forward the floor seemingly dropped out from underneath them as everything went black for a second, Harry feeling like he was falling through a giant hole in the ground while clinging to the hound's short fur like a life-line. Air returned to Harry's lungs with the light, the hound landing with a jerk that made Harry fall off its back, rolling away from it the moment he caught his breath back as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and looked up in time to see the hound turn around and dive into a shadow again, vanishing from sight as Harry blinked slowly in shock before collapsing suddenly as a wave of exhaustion washed over him, his arms suddenly unable to hold himself up as he tilted and landed on his back and once more everything went black.

* * *

For the second time in as many days, Harry woke up slowly with a flicker of his eyelids, his eyes snapping open fully as he jolted back into the soft bed beneath him to get away from the dark-skinned girl hanging over his face.

"Hi," the girl chirped softly, still watching Harry with wide awed eyes as she slowly sat back, looking like she didn't want to blink in fear he'd vanish.

"Hi," Harry exhaled nervously, his own eyes flicking around the room they were in, a long hallway with beds set up on each side like a dorm room. "Uh, um, where am I?" he asked slowly when the girl didn't make a move to do anything, still sitting on his lap as she stared at him.

"Fort Olympia," the girl admitted simply, "I'm Hazel," she blurted hopefully.

"Uh Harry," he replied slowly, "What's Fort Olympia?" he added when he realised 'Hazel' was more interested in staring at him than in speak.

"A safe haven for Demigods," a voice replied from the doorway making both Harry and Hazel jump in shock as they looked over to see a tall blonde man standing in the doorway wearing leather armour. "Your Hellhound brought you here but you passed out from the stress of shadow travelling for the first time," the man continued, "You've been unconscious for three days, it would have been more but we have access to the Pepper Up potion here so we were able to speed up the waking process".

"Right," Harry agreed, only understanding one word in ten, "Uh," he began as he glanced at Hazel, "Who are you".

"Arthur Pendragon," the man introduced with a small bow as Harry's jaw dropped, "Son of Zeus and Champion of Ares".

"And I'm Hazel," Hazel repeated, "Daughter of Pluto, God of the Dead. You're my brother!" she exclaimed happily.

"I'm what?" Harry asked dumbly, looking between them both in confusion.

"You're Harry Potter, the son of Pluto," Arthur Pendragon explained simply, "Hazel here is your younger half-sister".

Harry nodded slowly in understanding before doing what he expected anyone in his situation would do.

He fainted.

* * *

**FORT OLYMPIA**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Half-Bloods of Europe**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	17. Celestial Legion

**Celestial Legions **– Harry Potter.

* * *

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry" said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing near, as the Death Eaters laughed.

"You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish now, Harry? Come out, Harry... come out and play, then... it will be quick... it might even be painless... I would not know... I have never died..."

Harry crouched behind the headstone, and knew the end had come. There was no hope... no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason – he was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet... he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defence was possible...

Before Voldemort could stick his snake-like face around the headstone, Harry had stood up... he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted 'Expelliarmus!', Voldemort cried, 'Avada Kedavra!'

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's – they met in mid-air – and Harry watched in horror as the acid-green light of the Killing Curse swallowed the red of his Disarming Charm and continued on its path like nothing had even happened.

Realising that he hadn't exactly put up as much of a fight as he had wished to Harry merely closed his eyes and waited, feeling the spell hitting his chest and cold washing over him like he had been dunked in ice water. In the instant the spell hit him and the cold engulfed him Harry felt something latch around the very core of his being, onto something he had only felt when Dementors were trying to Kiss him. As he felt the Killing Curse tugging at his soul Harry felt something strange happen.

His soul tugged back.

Power exploded from his body as a scream was torn from his lips, a dangerous whip of AK-green energy lashing out from his body. Through the near-blinding light, Harry watched as Voldemort threw himself to the side ungracefully, barely avoiding the blast that continued on to send a Death Eater flying.

As a drained Harry collapsed to his hands and knees, he lifted his head to meet the confused blood-red eyes of Voldemort. Feeling a strange energy bubbling up in his chest, Harry looked down at his hands in time for the energy to reach them, his skin taking on a healthy tanned glow as a joyful singing started to radiate through his veins. Harry's eyes drifted up to his still bleeding arm, the cut from the ritual beginning to glow until Harry had to squint to see through the light shining out from the wound even as the same thing happened all over his body, the light radiating from every scar and mark he had on his skin. When the shine finally faded Harry was blinking down at clear skin, a screamed yell barely passing through his daze, causing him to look up in time to take a Killing Curse to the face.

Another scream of pain escaped Harry as the energy permeating throughout his body reacted to the dark magic, engulfing it and sending it back towards Voldemort who exploded into black smoke to 'whirlwind' out of the way of the energy. Forcing himself to his feet as he felt energy surging up to replace the power lost, Harry raised his hands to stare at them as a bright light began to radiate from his palms. As the energy inside him leapt at the slightest thought and begged him to fight back, Harry followed the instincts rising up inside him and turned his palms to face Voldemort, the light flaring once before dying suddenly.

As Voldemort barked out a laugh the energy inside him surged up and twin beams of golden light exploded from Harry's palms, pushing the startled boy back a step as the beams missed the Dark Lord and instead struck the Death Eater behind him. Harry faltered as the Death Eater let out a scream, almost lowering his hands as he watched the man thrashing under the golden light, a sense of disgust filling him through the beams as he found himself touching the other man's _soul_. Before he knew what he was doing Harry stepped forward and pushed his hands forward, the twin beams pulsing as they thickened, the Death Eater letting out one final scream of pain before bursting into flames and vanishing.

Harry stared at Voldemort as the beams automatically died off, his arms falling to his sides as he panted. Meeting the shocked and slightly fearful eyes of the Dark Lord, Harry slowly began edging backwards, hoping that the Triwizard Cup still had the original enchantment on it and would return him to Hogwarts should he touch it again.

Diving to the side as Voldemort's wand thrust forward, Harry rolled out the way of the sickly yellow spell and instinctively backhanded the air, a cracking sound filling the air as the tombstone closest to Harry was torn from the ground and flew at Voldemort. Shooting his hands, a shocked look, Harry glanced up in time to see Voldemort's wand flick again, shattering the tombstone into sharp shards of stone that spun around and shot towards Harry.

Automatically crossing his forearms in front of himself Harry watched in awe as the stone shards struck a dome around him, the shield manifesting as flashes of golden light as it deflected the stones and knocked them from the air. Forcing his hands apart Harry 'pushed' the energy towards his palms once more and sent twin beams of light-energy at Voldemort again, the Dark Lord being forced to slash his wand through the air while chanting an unfamiliar language, summoning up a shield of his own that seemed to be formed of living shadows that shrieked at the contact with Harry's light.

Forcing more power into the beams Harry heard a cracking noise filling the air, watching as his light was somehow deflected away from the falling shield and into a tombstone that promptly exploded. Cutting off the power from the beams Harry had a split second to see the mirror that Voldemort had conjured before it vanished and the Dark Lord was waving his wand, muttering something as he thrust it at Harry with a wicked smirk on his face, a rumble in the sky being Harry's only warning before a bolt of lightning shot down at him.

His forearms had barely crossed before the lightning struck his shield, a loud shattering sound echoing through the clearing as Harry was knocked off his feet by the shockwave that erupted from his collapsing shield. Slamming into a tombstone Harry groaned as he rolled onto his stomach, wincing in pain as he glared up at the still smirking Voldemort.

"Come Harry Potter" the snake-like man called out mockingly, "Stand up boy. Let us finish this duel. I am pleasantly surprised" the Dark Lord continued as Harry snarled and stumbled to his feet, "I thought you'd put up no more a fight than your mudblood mother, it seems I was wrong. I'm rarely wrong" he drawled.

Instead of replying Harry pulled his hands back and thrust them forward, two loud cracks filling the air as two tombstones were ripped out of the ground, being hurled at Voldemort by Harry's new power. While Voldemort shattered and banished the tombstones Harry snapped his fingers as he called on his new energy, watching as golden light danced around his fist for a moment before he pushed forward and heaved the energy at the Dark Lord in the form of a rippling wave.

"_Harry"_

He froze at the voice echoing in his mind, realising his mistake seconds later as he barely dodged the putrid-yellow looking spell, sending a single beam of light back at Voldemort to distract him.

"_Harry, listen to me. You need to get back to the Cup. It's still a portkey, it'll still take you back to Hogwarts"_ the strangely familiar voice instructed as Harry raised his other hand and shot a second beam towards Voldemort, missing and almost hitting a Death Eater instead.

"NO!" Voldemort's voice roared as Harry threw himself under a grey spell that the Death Eater sent back in retaliation, "HE IS MINE!"

Realising that despite his new abilities he was still sorely unmatched, Harry started backing towards the Triwizard Cup as he focused twin beams of light on Voldemort. Sending a surge of energy down the beams Harry spun around and broke into a sprint, diving under a black ball of fire and landed on Cedric's body, waving a hand at the Cup that flew towards him. As the portkey slapped into his empty palm, the familiar hook-navel-yank feeling rushed through his body as the graveyard vanished around him, a rainbow of lights shining around him.

Tears filled his eyes as he felt himself slamming into the ground, his face pressed into Cedric's rapidly cooling chest, the lack of a heartbeat and the limpness of the older student's body forcing a soft whimper from the back of his throat. His arm tightened around Cedric's waist as a roaring cheer filled the air around him, Harry flinching instinctively as his fist clenched with the urge to summon up that shield of his.

"HARRY! _HARRY!_"

He felt himself being manhandled off Cedric's body, his fingers wrapping around the other boy's wrist as he was rolled over to meet Dumbledore's baby blue eyes. "What happened?" the Headmaster demanded as Harry felt something pushing against his consciousness. As Dumbledore's eyes widened and he whispered "He's back", Harry made a startling realisation and his body reacted before he could stop himself, his fist smashing into the side of the old man's face and knocking him backwards onto his ass.

"-obviously in shock Albus" Harry heard Fudge exclaiming, "He just saw Diggory, that poor boy, getting murdered in front of him. I don't believe it, Cedric Diggory, dead! Oh Merlin Amos is on his way here; quick someone cover the boy's body he doesn't deserve to see that".

"CEDRIC!"

"Too late" Fudge dead-panned with a sad sigh.

"Come on Harry" Dumbledore ordered, grabbing Harry's injured arm and pulling him to his feet roughly, "What happened? What did you see?"

Making sure to keep his eyes away from Dumbledore's Harry instead looked at Fudge who was watching him expectantly as people surged around him. "They killed him" he blurted, "Those people from the Quidditch Cup, they cast the Killing Curse on him. I couldn't stop it" he added as he felt himself beginning to babble, "It was a trap, they wanted revenge for You-Know-Who. Cedric wasn't supposed to be there so they killed him, they were going to kill me too but I ran" he exclaimed, something telling him to keep quiet about Voldemort's return.

"Merlin" Fudge exhaled as his face went pale.

"We need to prepare Cornelius; Lord Voldemort has returned. The Aurors must be gathered and the original Death Eaters rounded up before they re-join him" Dumbledore ordered quickly.

"Bal-balderdash" Fudge whimpered, "He's not back, he can't be back! He's dead!"

"Boy, let's go" Moody muttered as he suddenly appeared at Harry's side, grasping him the arm and tugging him towards the school, "We need to get you to the Hospital wing for that leg".

Harry stumbled along after the rough ex-Auror as he glanced over his shoulder looking for either Hermione or Ron, unable to find them as Moody muttered under his breath and continued half-pulling, half-carrying him through the crowd surrounding the cup. They were inside the castle before Harry knew what was happening, his vision blurring as a bone-deep exhaustion began to settle into his body. "Woah there boy" Moody blurted as Harry almost tripped, "You need to lie down, get some potions in you before you pass out".

Energy tingling at the edge of his senses made Harry falter and look up, blinking at the pillar of white light that appeared in the middle of the hallway. A red beam of light shot out of the pillar and struck Moody in the chest, throwing the man down the hallway as the light faded to reveal a more than familiar red-haired woman, white light dancing around her hands as she glared at Moody.

"That's not Moody" the woman declared as she waved her hand, a flash of white light shining around Moody who bubbled and shimmered, turning into a familiar lanky brown-haired man, the fake eye and peg leg popping off to roll away. As Harry stared at the woman in shock she murmured something and a stream of white ropes exploded from her palm to wrap around the man, a flick of her wrist summoning three wands from the fake Moody.

"Hello Harry" the woman exhaled as she snapped the wands and chucked them to the side lazily, turning to face him with a nervous but loving smile.

Staring at the woman dumbly, Harry said the only thing his mind could manage at the time.

"Mum?"

* * *

**CELESTIAL LEGION**

* * *

**Based on BaraktheSlayer's '**_**Angels and Devils**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	18. Starkiller

**Starkiller** – Harry Potter/Star Wars.

* * *

"Merry Christmas Harry".

Harry smiled awkwardly at Mrs Weasley as she swept past him, hands curling around the mug of hot chocolate she handed him from the tray in her hands. Tightening his grip around the warm mug, he watched as Mrs Weasley re-joined her family in the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place, all of them laughing and talking as they sat around the crackling fire.

As he watched Ron shuffling back under his mother's arm when she sat, Harry turned away from the scene in front of him and guiltily fought down the bitter jealousy that was rising up in his chest. It wasn't his best friend's fault that he had family to spend Christmas with while Harry was an orphan, and it was ridiculous for him to feel bitter about something as silly as that when the Weasleys had kindly treated him like a seventh son.

"Harry?"

Jumping Harry's head snapped around to see Sirius watching him from the second floor landing, a concerned look on his face as the older man patted the banister beside him slowly. Smiling softly at Sirius and starting up the stairs, Harry felt a second flash of guilt for not remembering his godfather when the dog animagus had done everything he could to make the two of them a family.

"You okay Prongslet?" Sirius asked as Harry reached the landing and leaned against the banister beside him, "Christmas is supposed to be a merry time, not a time to lurk in the shadows scowling".

"I wasn't lurking" Harry denied petulantly, "And I'm fine, I was just thinking".

"Well think somewhere else" Sirius ordered, "Like my room" he suggested innocently as Harry stared at him. "I've got a warm fire, presents, and even better… me!" his godfather exclaimed before turning and bouncing up the stairs, pausing on the third landing and blinking down at him, "Hint hint, nudge nudge?"

"I'm coming" Harry exhaled, rolling his eyes fondly at Sirius as his godfather's face lit up. "Lemme grab something from my room first!" he called up after Sirius as he jogged towards the room he and Ron shared, quickly searching through his trunk for the wrapped present he had owl-ordered from Hogsmeade earlier that year.

"Took you long enough" Sirius dead-panned as Harry finally stepped into the brightly decorated room. "Come on" he instructed as he patted the bed beside him with a grin, "I may not have been able to go out shopping myself, but Moony and Tonskie were more than happy to go out to get everything for me" he explained as Harry stared at the pile of brightly wrapped presents on the bed.

"Same here" Harry confessed slowly as he raised the present in his hand, "Owl order can only get you so far though".

"Christmas is made by the people you're with, not the gifts you get" Sirius said sagely, nodding dramatically at Harry.

"Well then I guess I might as well keep this if you don't want it" Harry teased as he moved to put Sirius' present down.

"Whoa!" Sirius exclaimed, "I said Christmas is _made_ by the people you're with, I didn't say anything about not wanting presents!"

Grinning Harry shut the door behind him and strode over to drop the present in Sirius' lap, climbing onto the bed to watch as his godfather eagerly ripped open the wrapping paper, his eyes widening as a box clearly labelled '_Zonkos'_ fell out of the package and onto the bed, a book sliding out afterwards. "Oh Pup! You really _do_ love me!" Sirius yelped as he tore into the box to open it, diving into it to pull out various pranking supplies with a loving look on his face.

"I figured you were getting bored trapped in here without anything to do" Harry explained slowly as his godfather glanced over the book and grinned at the title (_1001 Muggle Pranks and their Magical Counters_).

"Understatement that" Sirius muttered as he lifted a small bag of dungbombs with a grin.

"Those have been shrunk" Harry added innocently making the grin turn evil.

"And that's why you're my favourite godson" Sirius exhaled as he faked wiping a tear from his eye. "Now it's your turn!" he declared as he pushed the entire pile of presents towards Harry, "Hopefully some of these make up for all the Christmases and birthdays I've missed" he explained as Harry's jaw dropped.

"I can't accept all of these" Harry refused quickly making Sirius' face go blank.

"As your godfather I have the right to spoil you, and I have a lot of spoiling to catch up on so open the presents and be pleased about it" Sirius ordered slowly, the corner of his lip twitching for a moment before they both burst into laughter, Harry's previous dark thoughts long gone.

Pausing for a moment to scowl at his godfather who had procured a camera from somewhere, Harry pulled the top gift towards him, unwrapping it to reveal a small glass-like orb that had a small ball of pulsing blue light inside it.

"I gave you one of those on your first official Christmas" Sirius explained slowly, "It's the magical version of a Muggle 'bouncy ball'. Just say 'Orb: Activate' and it'll turn on".

"Orb: Activate" Harry echoed obediently, watching as the inner light grew until the sphere was a singular ball of light. Blinking at it in confusion Harry pulled his hand back and gently threw it against the wall, yelping and diving to the side as the ball promptly went crazy, ricocheting around the room rapidly, Harry's eyes following the near-blur with all the skill of a Seeker before his hand shot out to catch it. "Merlin… that was awesome" he blurted as he absently threw it again, a grin forming on his face as he watched the ball flying around the room until his hand snapped out to snatch it from the air again. "I should have gotten one of these years ago" he whispered as he turned off the orb and beamed at his proud and shocked looking Godfather.

"You caught that almost as quickly as you did as a baby!" Sirius exclaimed with wide eyes, "I mean yeah the baby edition is slower and it doesn't rise as high but still! Your reflexes were freakish back then and now? By Merlin James would be proud!"

"I was a baby Sirius; how could I be _that_ fast" Harry pointed out dryly.

"Never underestimate yourself Prongslet" Sirius exhaled gently, "You have no idea what you're capable of. As a baby your accidental magic made most first years look like squibs" he explained. "That same Christmas James bought you a child's broomstick" he continued slowly, "I remember Lily being _furious_ since they were designed for three to five years olds and you were only two. As she chased him around the room you crawled off my lap and over to the broomstick to stare at it. Then you, a _two-year-old baby_, VANISHED the box, picked up the broom, and then flew off on it!" Sirius exclaimed wildly, gesturing around as Harry listened intently. "We were all so shocked at what you had done that we all just stood there staring like idiots as you chased Lucifer on a broom with your toes skimming the ground!"

"I chased _who_?" Harry blurted making Sirius falter.

"Lucifer… your cat" Sirius clarified before frowning and scratching his chin, "You know, Lily reacted the same way when James named him. Said it was a Muggle thing" he murmured.

"Yeah, it's just a Muggle thing. Never mind" Harry mumbled as he shook his head in disbelief at the idea of his father naming a cat 'Lucifer' without any knowledge about religion. "Wait a minute" he interrupted as his mind drifted back to his godfather's words, "Did you say I was two years old? I was only fifteen months when Voldemort killed Mum and Dad though" he countered.

"Oh no, you'd only been James and Lily's son for fifteen months when they'd been killed" Sirius corrected, "Anyway, you led James and Lily on a merry chase as you zipped around the room. Lily ended up summoning you straight off the back of the broom when you figured out that by going under the tables they couldn't catch you and ruin your fun. You pouted and glared at them until they gave you another present to distract you" he finished with a chuckle. "Merlin I miss those days" he added softly with a longing look on his face.

Harry however was still stuck up on Sirius' causal explanation for his age. "What do you mean I'd only been their son for fifteen months?" he growled out coldly, making Sirius pause and blink at him in shock, "I'm _adopted_ and _no one_ thought to tell me?"

"Who would tell you?" Sirius pointed out slowly, "Only James, Lily, and I knew that you weren't theirs by birth. The goblins should have given you a letter when you first showed up in the bank explaining everything to you".

"Does it look like I got a bloody letter?" Harry yelled, launching himself to his feet as he glared at his godfather, a hand raising to comb roughly through his hair in frustration as he started pacing.

"Obviously not" Sirius muttered darkly, "Alright Prongslet, sit down and I'll tell you everything I know" he ordered as a flick of his wand caused the presents to move over to wait on the wardrobe. When Harry slowly moved to sit down opposite Sirius, scowling at his godfather, the dog animagus sighed as he leaned back against the post of the four-poster bed.

"Right… where do I begin?" Sirius asked absently as he raised his head to stare at the ceiling, "The beginning I guess. I'm a comedy genius" he drawled plainly. "Fine. Uh, James and Lily were having trouble conceiving" he began awkwardly, "And when they finally managed to we were all ecstatic, until she miscarried. Then… then like it was destined to happen, you showed up…"

* * *

_**Sixteen years ago…**_

"Come on Padfoot, use that brain of yours" James hissed as he shot the door to the sitting room a nervous glance, "Lily is dying in there".

"Lily's what?" Sirius blurted in horror, "I thought Poppy-"

"No!" James interrupted, grabbing his arm as Sirius made for the sitting room. "She's fine, physically. I mean she's dying in here" he corrected patting his chest over his heart, "She's not taking the- the miscarriage well and I need your help to bring her back".

"Put another Prongslet in her then" Sirius dead-panned, raising his hands defensively when James scowled at him. "I'm serious!" he exclaimed, forgoing his usual Serious/Sirius joke in light of the serious topic, "If she finds out she's pregnant again she'll snap right out of it for the baby's sake".

"I can't" James forced out slowly, "Lily refuses to try for another one. It broke her heart Padfoot, she can't handle another miscarriage and she knows it".

Sirius flinched and turned to send the door a sad look, "What about adoption?" he suggested slowly, "Adopt an orphaned Wizarding baby and then use a blood adoption ritual. None of the risk of miscarriage and all the results".

"That's a-" James faltered and blinked at Sirius as his mind processed the idea, "That's a brilliant idea!" he exclaimed, "Do… do you think Lily will agree?"

"Yes" Lily's voice replied from the doorway making them both freeze in place, eyes flicking to the door nervously. "I want a baby and if I can't have one myself then adopting is my only option" the red-haired woman declared firmly, her eyes watering as she stared at James.

"Sirius, can you come with us on Monday to the Department of Magical Child Welfare?" James asked hopefully as he accepted his wife's request without hesitation.

"I'd be honoured" Sirius promised as Lily launched herself at James, a choked laugh erupting from her mouth as she clung to him, a grin forming on her face as they both watched the life returning to the fiery red-head.

"Oh James!" Lily began, "We're going to have a-"

A loud horn cut her off as they all leapt away from each other, pulling their wands as they turned to face the windows expectantly.

"Tippy!" James called out, making the manor's house elf appear with a crack, "What does that alarm mean? I've never heard it before" he demanded as they all nervously waited for a Death Eater raid.

"It is being the wards saying a large object be passing through them" Tippy replied automatically, wringing his ears with a pained expression, "The object be landing in the west field Master James Sir, does you be want Tippy to clean it up?"

"No. We'll go" James denied, "What kind of object is it?"

"Tippy doesn't know Sir" the house elf apologized, "Tippy has never seen of something like this before".

"Where did it come from?" Lily asked slowly, frowning down at the house elf for a moment before flicking her wand at the wall, the sound of the alarm being muffled instantly.

Relaxing with a grateful look in Lily's direction, Tippy removed his hands from his ears and instead pointed up, "It's being falling from the sky Mistress Lily Ma'am" he reported instantly.

"From the sky?" Sirius echoed in confusion, "Is it one of those Muggle 'Oreoplains'?"

Tippy shook his head again, ears flapping around comically. "Tippy has seen an aeroplane before Mister Black. Tippy has never seen ones of theses before".

"Can… can you take us there?" Lily asked hopefully, a calculating expression on her face as Tippy nodded and they all gathered together to take the house elf's hand. With a loud pop they were standing in front of a burning crater, James and Sirius' jaws dropping as they stared at the dark wreckage, Lily instantly casting a spell to light up the whole area.

"Oh Merlin" she exhaled softly, "It's a spaceship".

* * *

"Hold on" Harry interrupted, "While you get points for knowing what a spaceship is, do you really expect me to believe that a spaceship crashed in their backyard? And what has this got to do with me?" he added pointedly, "Because I swear Sirius, if you tell me that I came _from_ that spaceship then under-age sorcery be damned I _will_ hex you within an inch of your life" he threatened bluntly.

"Okay then I won't tell you" Sirius promised with a shrug, grinning at Harry as the younger wizard's jaw clenched.

"Fine… continue" Harry ground out, "But I swear... if you're lying about this you'll wish you were back in Azkaban".

"How about I skip to the cool bits?" Sirius offered with a grimace, "Most of what happened next was confusing. Somehow Lily and Tippy, good elf that one, found the entrance and opened it. They led us into it and it looked just like some of the films Lily rented out afterwards to explain aliens to us" he explained with distant eyes. "We followed the life revealing charms to a room near the back of it and that's where we found you. You were in a crib, protected by what Galen called a 'stasis field'" he continued.

"Galen?" Harry asked curiously, "That woman?"

"Nah, that was Juni?" Sirius mumbled before freezing, "Um… Jane? Jun-Juno! That was Juno" he corrected with a nod. "Juno was your mother. Galen, Juno's partner, was your father".

"Galen" Harry repeated, shuffling back to lean against the headboard, "And he was a Muggle? So I'm really a Muggleborn?"

"Galen wasn't a Muggle Harry" Sirius denied.

"He was a Wizard then" Harry corrected, refusing to accept the possibility.

"Harry" Sirius began softly "You're an alien".

* * *

**STARKILLER**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Out of this World**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	19. Samael

**Samael** – Harry Potter.

* * *

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

As the brunette eleven-year-old stumbled forward, half of the student body of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry glanced up and then away in boredom, eyeing their dinner plates in hunger. As Perks, Sally-Anne sat on the stool she shot her elder sister, sitting among the Hufflepuffs, a nervous smile before the Sorting Hat slid down over her eyes and silence filled the hall.

"_Hufflepuff!"_ the Sorting Hall called and the black and yellow house let out a round of applause as the blushing girl removed the hat and hurried over to sit down beside her beaming sister.

When the buzz had died down and the student's attention had returned to their plates, Professor McGonagall raised the parchment in her hand and faltered at the next name on the list. Glancing up at the crowd of first years, Minerva cleared her throat slowly.

"Potter, Harry!"

Instantly everyone in the hall snapped to attention, eyes turning to the group of first years expectantly as they waited for the Boy-Who-Lived to make himself known.

And they weren't disappointed.

Slowly the four remaining eleven year olds parted to reveal a fifth black-haired boy who strode forward confidently as whispers exploded through the hall.

"Potter? As in _Harry _Potter?"

"_That's_ Potter? I thought he'd be taller"

"That can't be Potter, he's not wearing glasses"

"Harry Potter? He's a fraud! He looks nothing like Harry Potter!"

Unaware (Or perhaps just simply not caring) of the quiet murmurs, Harry Potter continued towards the Sorting Hat with straight shoulders and a calm expression. As he sat down on the stool he had a split second glimpse of hundreds of faces craning to get a proper look at him, the Sorting Hat falling over his eyes moments later.

"_Well, well, well… what do we have here?"_

Harry found himself on alert instantly, his body tensing as the voice whispered in his ears.

"_What a talented child you are,"_ the voice continued slowly, "_I'm afraid, young man, that you'll need to lower your shields so I can sort you. I cannot sort those whose minds are blocked"_.

'_I'm not lowering my shields,'_ Harry projected awkwardly, wondering if the Hat would even get his message.

"_Unfortunately you must, as I said, I cannot sort you unless you do,"_ the Sorting Hat explained as Harry found an otherwise piercing silence filling the hall, "_If it makes you feel better I am unable to reveal what I find in your mind to anyone else"_.

'_It's not that,__'_ Harry denied quickly, '_Well not just that. But it's because I _can't _lower my shields, they're not mine in the first place,'_ he explained.

"_Is that so?"_ the Hat mumbled curiously, "_What kind of enchanted item do you possess that you cannot remove?"_

'_**I am not an item,'**_ a silky voice corrected making Harry grin slightly at his 'brother's' voice.

"_Oh my,"_ the Hat exhaled, clearly sounding shocked at the presence of a second being in Harry's mind, "_It's been awhile since I've sorted one of your kind my Lord"_.

'_**I am Samael. What purpose have you inside my charge's mind?'**_ 'Samael' demanded coldly.

"_I merely wish to discover his traits and sort him to one of Hogwarts' four Houses,"_ the Sorting Hat explained as the gathered Hogwarts students started to look at each other in confusion.

'_**I see. My young charge here is quite the studious one, he wishes to be placed in Ravenclaw,'**_ Samael declared, '_**I'd much rather he joins Gryffindor however, he could use a little courage and daring. Also those lovely twins from the train are Gryffindors, they could teach him how to have a little fun'**_.

'_Hey!'_ Harry complained as the Sorting Hat chuckled, '_Just because I'm not an uneducated barbarian like you Sammy!'_

"_Well the Headmaster has requested that I put you in Gryffindor for some reason,"_ the Sorting Hat confessed, "_So with your permission my Lord I will do so"_.

'_What? Don't I get a say in this?'_ Harry whined with a pout.

'_**No,'**_ Sam dead-panned, '_**That Granger girl is in Gryffindor, spend time with her. You have my permission Gillian'**_**.**

"_Oh! It's been so long since I've heard my own name,"_ the Hat chirped, "_I do hope you'll come visit me sometime my Lord, it's so awfully boring these days__. GRYFFINDOR!"_ the Hat finished, yelling out the final word to the entire hall of students.

Taking off the Hat and handing it back to the Professor, Harry walked over to the loudly cheering Gryffindor table and slid onto the bench beside a beaming Hermione, having quickly befriended the bushy-haired girl on the train.

"You didn't tell me you were Harry Potter," Hermione instantly scolded, her frown only lasting a second before she was smiling at him again.

"I told no one", Harry whispered back as 'Thomas, Dean' went up to be sorted. "Being famous is a bitch, pardon the French".

'_**Stop being so polite,'**_ Sam muttered in his mind, making Harry roll his eyes. '_**I saw that,'**_ he added.

'_Oh shut up,'_ Harry countered,

Putting his finger to his lips and whispering "Later," to what looked like a question-filled Hermione, Harry turned back to pay attention to the rest of the Sorting as Thomas, Dean joined Gryffindor and sat beside the half-blood (Seamus, he believed) Harry had spoken to on the train. As Turpin, Lisa became a Ravenclaw, Harry grimaced as he saw the next person to go up to be Sorted, the obnoxious red-head he had bumped into while getting his school supplies stomping up to the stool with a scowl on his face.

After a minute or so of arguing with the Sorting Hat, through which Weasley's face turned a concerning red that matched his hair, the Hat finally shouted out '_Gryffindor!'_, sounding more than frustrated with the boy.

As Weasley's face lit up and he pulled the Hat off to hand to the Professor, Harry felt a sense of foreboding fill him as he glanced down at the empty space beside him. "Quick!" he hissed to the tall boy sitting next to him as Weasley's eyes locked onto Harry's position, "Move over, I don't want to sit next to him".

After shooting him an amused look the boy shuffled over obediently, leaning forward and saying something about 'Beating off a bludger' or something (Which Harry was almost convinced was an innuendo) to the black-skinned girl sitting opposite Hermione.

'_**Close one there Harry,'**_ Sam murmured, '_**I get the feeling this boy is going to be quite the nuisance'**_.

'_Tell me about it,'_ Harry thought back, pretending not to notice the way Weasley scowled again before moving over to sit at the far end of the table.

'_**No,'**_ Sam denied simply, the smirk audible in his voice.

As Zabini, Blaise went to Slytherin, Harry's attention was drawn to the bearded man wearing almost blinding yellow robes, the old man standing up slowly as silence rolled across the great hall. The old man beamed suddenly, spreading his arms as he looked over the students slowly, looking almost ecstatic to see them all.

"WELCOME!" the man exclaimed happily, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Now, before we begin our feast, I would like to say just a few words. And here they are!" he declared before clearing his throat and placing his hand on his adam's apple. "Nitwit!" Albus Dumbledore burped out, "Blubber!" he continued with another burp, "Oddment! Tweak!"

Clearing his throat again the Headmaster sat back down with a proud smile on his face as the student body clapped and cheered, Professor McGonagall looking at him in disapproval. "It _was_ rather impressive wasn't it?" Dumbledore preened, "Thank you. Now! Let us eat!"

Turning back to the table Harry's jaw almost fell open at the sight of the steaming food that had appeared on all the dishes in front of him. "Wow," Hermione whispered from beside him, making Harry nod slowly in agreement before they exchanged a look and smiled at each other, taking a page from the older student's books and helping themselves to the delicious smelling food in front of them.

"So Potter," a Scottish voice asked making Harry glance over to the older boy sitting beside him, "If yeh don't mind me asking. But everyone says yeh have a 'lightning bolt' scar," he explained tapping his own bare forehead, "Did you really or was that just something the press made up?"

"They must have made it up," Harry agreed as he noticed the way everyone within earshot was paying attention to them, "I've never had a scar".

"What about your glasses?" a blonde boy that barely looked older than Harry himself demanded, "And your eyes are supposed to be green," he added snappishly.

"My eyes have always been grey," Harry corrected coldly, "And I've never needed glasses before".

"That's not what the Daily Prophet says," the boy argued.

'_**Well he's a dick,'**_ Sam declared making Harry agree mentally.

"And who do you think knows best?" the black girl opposite Hermione interrupted, "The Daily Prophet or Potter himself?"

"What's the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked curiously, glancing at the Scottish Wizard beside him.

"Newspaper," the boy explained, "Notorious for 'forgetting' to back up their information with actual facts," he continued shooting the blonde boy an annoyed glare.

'_**We can't let that continue, you might need to hire a solicitor if they keep printing lies about you,' **_Sam advised, '_**In fact you might want to do that anyway, you wanted to do something about all the Harry Potter merchandise being sold after all'**_.

Nodding subtly to Sam's suggestion, Harry turned back to the Scottish Wizard in time for him to stick out his hand. "Oliver Wood," the boy introduced, "Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team".

"Harry Potter," Harry replied shaking his hand, "Supporter of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team".

Oliver barked out a laugh, "That's the spirit Harry, House Pride all the way".

"What's Quidditch?" Hermione asked curiously, leaving Oliver and the three girls opposite them (Angelina, Alicia, and Katie; Gryffindor Chasers) to launch into an explanation of the 'marvellous game of Quidditch'.

* * *

That night Harry lay behind the curtains of his soft four-poster bed, silencing runes engraved in all four posters to create an area of silence with the four points.

Stretching out in his silk pyjamas, Harry glanced down to where an almost identical version of himself was twirling their wand between his fingers. "What do you think so far?" he asked Samael, his grey-haired twin blinking up at him for a moment before shrugging.

"**This castle is very powerful,"** Sam admitted slowly, "**The sheer density of the magic surrounding this place suffocated me for a moment when we first stepped onto the grounds"**.

"Even _I_ can feel it," Harry agreed in an exhale, Sam smiling gently at him in response. "What do you think of Hermione?" he questioned, tilting his head as Sam flicked his wrist to cause sparks to explode from the tip of their wand.

"**She needs to learn that books can be wrong," **Sam confessed with a shrug, "**But other than that she's a nice girl, you may finally have a friend you can trust"**.

"You think so?" Harry mumbled hopefully, a wistful look flashing across his face.

"**I do,"** Sam confirmed, "**In fact, the Neville boy seems like he could be a loyal friend, given a little training. Unlike Ronald McDonald"**.

Harry felt himself sneering automatically at the red-head's name, "I just met him today and I already hate him," he spat, making the Trickster spirit opposite him chuckle.

"**You need sleep,"** Sam decided as Harry yawned, "**I'm going to go scout out the castle while you get some rest"**.

"Be careful Sammy," Harry murmured sleepily as he slipped beneath the blankets, not arguing as Sam instantly reached up to tuck him in.

"**Always little one,"** Sam whispered as he pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, slipping his wand under his pillow.

"Don't pull any pranks," Harry added softly making Sam freeze with a scandalised look on his face. "Wait a bit so people don't blame us immediately," he explained making Sam relax, "Find out what the Twins' calling card is so we can frame them".

"**Oh that's my boy,"** Sam declared proudly, brushing Harry's fringe out of the way as Harry yawned again. "**Rest well Harry, you have a long day tomorrow, you'll need all your energy"**.

"Love you," Harry whispered as his eyes drifted shut and he faded into a deep sleep.

"**Love you too, little one,"** Samael mumbled, smiling fondly down at his charge before cracking his neck and smirking, turning and diving straight off the bed, falling through the curtains and stretching as he looked around the dorm room. "**Let's get this tour started shall we,"** he drawled, rubbing his hands together before skipping over to the door and freezing, turning to glance at Ronald Weasley's trunk as he bit his lip.

"**Just one prank,"** he promised himself as he turned and skipped over to the boy's trunk, "**Maybe two"**.

* * *

**SAMAEL**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Part of Me**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	20. The Call

**The Call ** – Harry Potter/Underworld.

* * *

Harry Potter's eyes snapped open as the front door slammed shut, his entire body tense and ready to move as he listened to the sound of his cousin stomping into the kitchen.

Letting out a shaky breath, Harry relaxed back onto his hard mattress, slowly uncurling his fingers from around the wand hidden beneath his pillow. Raising his hand to rub his forehead, Harry flinched as Dudley called out for his mother, his loud voice echoing through both the house and Harry's head.

Glancing over to his alarm clock as he heard his Aunt hurrying past his bedroom door, Harry groaned at the time, having only managed an hour long nap this time. Shaking his head, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, tilting his head slowly as he listened to his cousin complaining about the lack of chocolate in the house, biting back his second groan at the sound of his Aunt offering to make 'the boy' run down to the store.

Sighing in relief when Dudley muttered something about not trusting the freak and not being willing to wait, Harry shuffled back so he was leaning against the wall as his cousin just demanded some money from Aunt Petunia and left the house again.

Faltering as he heard his Aunt muttering about getting dinner started, Harry reached under his pillow to pull out his wand. Twirling it around his fingers, Harry hid his smirk as it started sparking, his Aunt coming to a grinding halt as she threw the door open and stepped inside his room.

"Is there a problem Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked innocently, the horse-faced woman's eyes locked onto the red and gold sparks erupting from the tip of his wand.

"I- I don't want that _stuff_ in my home" Petunia snapped, her disgusted tone of voice betrayed by the fear in her eyes, the sight of it making part of Harry want to let out a whoop (_definitely _not a howl) of joy.

"Of course, sorry" Harry dead-panned, both of them knowing he didn't mean it as he stopped twirling his wand and set it down in his lap.

As his Aunt opened her mouth to order him to begin dinner, Harry felt himself stiffening as she raised her eyes from his wand and instead locked them on his torso, her jaw abruptly falling open in shock.

"What do you want Petunia?" Harry ground out darkly, watching as his Aunt's eyes drifted up to the beginning of the four red jagged scars that stretched from underneath his right nipple and down his side to his hip, disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Where- where did… where did they come from?" Petunia whispered softly, Harry pushing aside the urge to hex her.

"I got between a werewolf and my best friends" Harry confessed coldly, "I managed to chase it off, barely".

"Why didn't they fix it?" Petunia asked slowly, apparently forgetting her hatred of Harry in light of his newest scars.

"_The scars will never heal Harry… lycanthropic venom leaves permanent scars; I can give you a salve to reduce the scarring but there's nothing else I can do"._

Clenching his jaw as he turned his head to scowl out the window Harry huffed, "We can't fully heal wounds inflicted by werewolves" he admitted bluntly, "They always scar".

"You're not a-"

"No" Harry interrupted quickly, "It was just a scratch, I wasn't bitten. There are side effects… but I'm not a werewolf".

"_You may develop some wolfish tendencies like enhanced senses, a taste for rare steak, maybe even restlessness during a full moon. But you're not at risk of becoming a werewolf from just a scratch, bone deep or not"._

"That's… that's good" Petunia murmured, Harry faltering as he heard a hint of pity and relief in his Aunt's voice. She turned away to leave his room and paused, looking back at him with a torn expression, "What kind of side effects?" she blurted making him blink in shock at the concern in her voice.

Brushing it off as concern for her family Harry shrugged, "My senses are stronger, I don't need glasses anymore. I'm angrier, less prone to being pushed around".

His Aunt nodded slowly and turned away fully, "We're ordering fish and chips for dinner tonight" she declared without looking at him, "Would you prefer more than usual? More fish perhaps?"

"More sounds good" Harry confessed hesitantly, "I can pay for the extra" he added when his Aunt just nodded again.

"I don't need charity from you" Petunia snapped, Harry jerking back in shock as his Aunt stomped out and slammed the door shut, her real message of 'No, I'll pay' echoing through his mind.

Sighing as he heard his Aunt descending the stairs Harry leaned back to think about what had just happened. Petunia had been coming up to order him to make dinner, Harry knew that from her muttering as she climbed the stairs. But after seeing his reward for trying to save Ron and Hermione's lives she had changed her mind. That wasn't a coincidence, there was no way that was a coincidence…

Deciding not to look the gift horse in the mouth, Harry instead climbed off his bed, stretching out and wincing as the still tender scars twinged. Glaring at his reflection in the mirror hanging on his wardrobe door, Harry threw open his trunk and pulled out the pot of salve that Madam Pomfrey had given him, tugging his pants down over his hips to reveal the end of the scar as he sat back down on his bed.

Grabbing onto a chunk of leather Madam Pomfrey had also supplied, Harry slipped it into his mouth as he dipped his fingers into the paste and gathered up a generous amount. Holding his hand over his chest for a moment, Harry clenched his jaw and took a deep breath before touching the paste to his scars, his world filling with pain several seconds later.

* * *

"Aunt Petunia" Harry called out softly, standing awkwardly in the doorway as his Aunt paused where she was washing the dishes, "I'm going to go out for a run. Is that okay?" he asked politely.

His Aunt's lips pursed as she half-turned her head to stare at him from the corner of her eye. "Take the spare key" she ordered bluntly, making him blink in shock as she turned back to the sink, "I'm not staying up to let you back in".

Forcing back the question on his lips, Harry merely nodded and hurried up to his room, changing into a pair of shorts and slipping the spare key into his pocket. Quickly leaving the house before his Aunt could change her mind, Harry broke into a jog the moment he reached the pavement, heading towards the nearest park.

As he jogged, grateful for the chance to work off the energy he had been building up, Harry felt the scars stretching without pain for the first time since he had gotten them. Despite what he had told Professor Lupin, the scars weren't painless. In fact, they were quite the opposite, he often woke in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes as they ached down through to the bone. He didn't blame the Professor though, he knew that as Moony he had no control, he was just grateful that four scars were _all_ Moony gave him.

Cutting through an alleyway, Harry ignored the cars passing him as he jogged, still too lost in his own thoughts to notice anything beyond the dark path his mind was heading down. Of course, he wished that four scars were _truly_ all Moony had given him. Sure he was glad he didn't have glasses anymore, but being able to hear a conversation downstairs was a real pain in the ass, it wasn't like he could hear a whisper, but he could clearly hear the TV when his relatives were eating their take-outs. And to add to his new senses, Harry also had a 'lovely' new personality, occasionally having to stop himself mid-growl or finding himself thinking more like an animal than as Harry.

Glancing around to check on his progress, Harry slowed down at the intersection to hit the walk button as he watched cars spending past. Exhaling slowly as the smell of sewerage filled his nose, Harry glared down at the grate to his right, raising a hand to cover his nose. Scowling up at the green light, Harry wished it would just hur- _**He squinted as the pink light from the 'Open 24/7' sign on the diner window flared into his eyes. Blinking and shaking it off he turned and jogged across the street the moment there was a gap for him, cracking his neck before continuing down the street.**_

A pained groan escaped Harry's lips as the burning feeling in his eyes faded, his head snapping around to stare at the pink 'Open 24/7' sign he could see on the other end of the street, a dark figure slowly walking towards him. As he felt his magic bubbling up inside his chest, tugging at him, Harry took a step towards the figure before freezing as he forced down the instinct to hunt down the source of that vision. Ignoring the almost burning itch beneath his skin that pleaded with him to go back, Harry turned and broke into a jog again, heading back down the street and around the corner from the walking figure.

His eyes itched for a moment, the burning feeling that surged up again making him freezing as he blinked rapidly. Somehow knowing that the figure was currently watching through his eyes as he had just done to him, Harry raised his hand to cover them, showing the stranger his palm as he wondered what the _hell_ was going on.

This had never happened to him before, was it because of the wolfish traits that had been passed onto him? Or was this simply a 'Harry Potter' thing?

_**Growling under his breath as he rubbed his eyes, he rounded the corner and froze at the sight of the shorter figure leaning against the lamppost, a hand pressed against their face.**_

Head snapping up Harry stared at the man standing at the other end of the street, frowning for a moment before backing away the moment the man started forward. Pushing himself away from the lamppost he had grabbed onto for support, Harry broke into a run, ignoring the burning urge to go towards the figure as he sprinted in the direction of Privet Drive. As he felt something tugging in chest, Harry forced himself to run faster, sprinting across the street as he glanced over the shoulder to see the black-clad man rounding the corner. Realising with a start that the tugging was pulling him in the direction of the man, Harry purposely ran in the opposite direction, turning down Wisteria Walk which lead straight onto Privet Drive.

Feeling his blood beginning to sing in his ears, unable to deny the buzz he was getting from the 'thrill of the hunt', Harry barely caught movement from the corner of his eye before a dark blur leapt from the alleyway between Wisteria and Magnolia and slammed into his side. Yelping in shock as the ambush knocked them both to the ground, Harry's breath was knocked from his lungs as they bounced and rolled onto the empty street.

Pulling his wand out mid-bounce, Harry shoved it under the man's jaw as they came to a halt in the middle of the street, his body aching as he lay on the cold hard ground. The incantation to the disarming charm froze on Harry's tongue as a head of brown-blonde hair filled his vision and a nose nuzzled at his throat.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Harry demanded as he placed both hands on the man's chest and shoved, reacting instinctively as the head jerked away from his neck, rolling them over and shoving his wand back under the jaw of a shocked looking teenage boy. Harry found himself faltering as dilated electric blue eyes blinked up at him, a single sharp fang visible from where it was caught on his lip. "Mine" Harry blurted before he could stop himself, a soft rumbling noise filling the air as he blinked in shock. "Vampires purr?" he added dumbly.

"Why the fuck do you smell like _werewolf_?" the boy growled out angrily, Harry's wand-tip beginning to glow as a surge of irrational fear filled him at the thought.

"Excuse me? Who the hell are you?" Harry questioned, trying to ignore the growing urge to bite the boy beneath him, instead pressing the tip of his wand harder into the teenager's throat as the brown-blonde boy started to sit up. "And why did you attack me?" he added as his eyes started itching again. _**He stared up at the boy above up, eyes roaming his face and taking in every aspect of the boy's appearance.**_

Harry grunted as he jerked his head to the side, breaking the connection that was running between them and glancing over to see the boy shaking his head with a confused look on his face. "What was that vampire?" he growled out, watching as the boy flinched at the growl and feeling a flash of guilt filling him.

"That's why I chased you" the boy snapped as his eyes slowly changed from a glowing blue to a dark grey and the fang Harry could see retracted. "And my name is Daniel" he added coldly, Harry absently noticing his nostrils flaring as he smelled him, the boy tilting his head back to bare his throat to Harry.

Almost instantly a rumbling purr filled the air and Harry smirked as he shot the boy beneath him a look of victory, "Ha! I told you that you were purring!" he exclaimed.

"That's not me, you idiot" Daniel sneered at him, making him freeze as he glanced down at the source of the purring in shock, feeling the strange rumbling slowing to a stop in his chest.

"I didn't know I could do that" Harry mumbled dumbly, yelping in shock as they were suddenly rolling over again, Daniel straddling him with a smug look on his face. Before he could stop him Daniel was pulling up his shirt, causing Harry to freeze as his cheeks flushed uncomfortably at the way the teenage vampire glared down at the scar running down his stomach to his hip.

Lashing out Harry shoved the tip of his wand into the boy's chest, a spark of magic lifting him off Harry and throwing him across the road. Scrambling to his feet Harry aimed his wand at the once more blue-eyed vampire, backing away from him as he slowly moved towards Privet Drive. "Stay away from me" Harry ordered coldly, ignoring the way his new instincts told him to claim what was his. Shaking his head to dislodge that thought, Harry kept a close eye on the vampire as Daniel followed him, taking a step for each step Harry took.

Suddenly as Daniel took a step forward, there was a flash of blue light, and he jerked back with a pained look on his face. Harry paused as he watched the boy reached out, magic sizzling through the air as he was repelled by what seemed to be an invisible dome. "Blood wards" Harry realised in shock, glancing over his shoulder at Privet Drive.

A low whine filled the air and Harry turned back to stare at the blue-eyed boy standing there, watching him intently with a longing look on his face. Forcing down the flare of pain in his chest, Harry slowly and purposely turned his back on Daniel and headed towards Privet Drive, setting up a chant in his mind telling him to keep moving and that returning to Daniel's side was a bad idea.

Reaching #4, Harry opened the door and stepped inside, pausing and glancing over his shoulder to stare at the empty street for a moment. Taking a deep breath Harry closed the door behind him and hurried upstairs, shutting his door and leaning against it as he closed his eyes, the vampire's scent still filling his nose.

Staggering over to his bed Harry collapsed onto it, his mind racing as he wished he had Hermione here to talk to, knowing his bushy-haired best friend would be able to fix this and make it all go away. Pain of a different kind flared through his chest as he faltered, remembering Hermione's cold '_Werewolves are Dark Creatures Harry, and whether you're a full werewolf or just half I- I just can't'_. His former best friend's words had hurt even more so than Ron's, who had quite bluntly and quite loudly informed Harry that he had no desire to be friends with someone who was 'Marked' by a Dark Creature, saying so in front of the entire Great Hall who had proceeded to treat him like he had the plague.

And without Hermione's wisdom and Ron's tactical abilities to rely on, Harry was forced to act on instinct…

The very instinct that he had been denying and ignoring all night…

Standing up automatically, Harry moved without thinking about it as he slid open his bedroom window and vaulted out, landing on his feet easily and striding forward instantly. Approaching where he believed the wardline to be, he watched as Daniel materialised out of nowhere to stand at the edge of it watching him.

"I think" Harry began as he stood opposite the vampire, crossing his arms across his chest, "We need to have a talk".

* * *

**THE CALL**

* * *

**Based on DZ2's '**_**Call of the Heart**_**' challenge.**

**Remember to leave a review if you liked this idea and make sure to follow this story, more ideas are sure to come!**


	21. Heart's Desire

**I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.  
**Language – Violence – Character Bashing.

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_DZ2's Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood Challenge._

**Plot:** Every Half-Blood has one godly parent, this we know: however, Harry is different because of one reason: through the ways of the divine, he has _more_ than one god for a parent.

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_**This story used to called 'Legacy' and used to be an actual story on my profile, however due to a massive writer's block I've decided to demote it to just being one of my many ideas so I can instead focus my time on my other stories.**_

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"I think that's enough for the day Mr Potter"

Sighing in relief Harry barely resisted the urge to throw down the demon quill and fist pump the air, instead just dropping it and flexing his hand as he sat back in his chair and tried to ignore the blood pouring from the back of his hand.

"Excuse me Mr Potter" Umbridge piped up again, "You didn't finish that line".

Freezing, Harry stared up at the pink toad in disbelief, hiding his groan as the faux Professor just raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Sorry Professor" he ground out politely, knowing well enough by now that being rude would give him _more_ lines to do as he picked up the 'blood quill' and slowly wrote down '_I must not tell lies'_, ignoring the way his mind was screaming at him to just pull his wand and curse this woman into a quivering boneless mass.

"Good boy Mr Potter" Umbridge said dismissively, watching his face carefully as he clenched his jaw at her intentionally patronising tone. "Is there something wrong Mr Potter?" she asked innocently as his good fist clenched in anger, leaving him to wonder if the constant use of 'Mr Potter' was just another way for Umbridge to try make him lose his temper. "I didn't think so" she agreed when Harry didn't reply, "You can leave now Mr Potter, please shut the door behind you" she ordered as she picked her tea-cup up again and started sipping at it, pretending he wasn't even there as he picked up his bag and left the office before throwing it over his shoulder as he pulled a bandage from it and instantly started wrapping his hand as he walked.

Muttering darkly under his breath Harry finished wrapping his hand and looked up, glancing around and faltering as he wondered where exactly he was, not having paid attention to where he had been walking. Shooting the tapestry on the wall of some weirdo teaching trolls to dance an amused look, Harry strode open to the door opposite it and pushed it open hesitantly, stepping into the room and feeling his jaw drop as he looked around the beautiful garden in shock.

Walking further into the room slowly, Harry glanced down at the floor and frowned as he realised it was actually made of grass instead of just having a grass-like carpet as he had originally assumed. Continuing through the room Harry found his body slowly relaxing, the fifteen year old promising to return here after his next detention tomorrow as he found himself walking between rows of roses towards a hedge, stepping through the archway the hedge formed and freezing at the sight of a woman with deep dark red hair flowing down to the small of her back. Swallowing nervously Harry took a step back as he watched the woman, planning on leaving her to her privacy even as he watched the woman daintily wave a hand through the air, his jaw once more dropping as a green bush rapidly sprouted in front of her, the bush quickly reaching full-size and blooming with pure white roses.

"Come sit down Harry" the woman called out, not even glancing over her shoulder at him, "It's time we had a little talk" she continued in her beautifully lilting voice.

Awkwardly edging forward Harry rounded the marble bench the woman was sitting on and instead chose to sit down on the bench opposite her, his wand migrating to up his sleeve as he studied the breathtakingly familiar woman. "I meant sit beside me" the woman scolded with a fond smile on her face, Harry shrugging slowly as he eyed her cautiously.

"How do you know my name?" Harry asked hesitantly, shaking his head as he remembered exactly who he was, "Neve-"

"I alway recognise my sons and daughters" the woman interrupted bluntly, "And while I've been willing to let you live your own life up till now, I simply cannot stand by while that _woman_ tortures my cutest son".

"Your cutest son" Harry echoed slowly, "Right. It was nice talking to you Ma'am" he began as he stood up, absently checking on the back of his hand.

"SIT DOWN" the woman snapped making Harry grunt as his butt hit the marble bench automatically, "Good boy" she murmured as she brushed her hair out of her face. "Now as I was saying, up till now I was content to let you become the man you're destined to be on your own. However with how events are transpiring I've decided that you simply cannot be allowed to remain here".

"Okay listen" Harry interrupted as the woman paused to pluck one of the white roses she had just somehow grew, "But I've got no idea what you're talking about. You see, my mother _died_ when I was fifteen months old, so you're not her".

"Lily Evans wasn't your mother" the woman corrected as she took a deep whiff of the rose, "Lily was your half-sister, one of my daughters".

"Right" Harry drawled coldly, "And who are you again?"

"Venus. Roman Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Passion" the woman introduced simply, Harry faltering at her serious 'I'm not joking' tone of voice. "I'm your mother Harry" she explained as she slipped the rose into her hair and turned her full attention on him, "And while meeting you like this is forbidden, Jupiter isn't going to deny me my right to look after my children. He's scared of me you see" she added with a dark smirk. Flicking her hair over her shoulder 'Venus' stood and swayed over to sit beside Harry, "With everything you've been through I decided I needed to meet with you personally, knowing you'd never trust a faun or a letter with such claims" she justified as Harry stared at her dumbly.

"I don't trust you either" Harry blurted as Venus paused, "About being my mother, or about being a Goddess. Gods don't exist".

"And magic does?" Venus countered.

"I use magic on a daily basis" Harry argued as he stood and backed away from the woman.

"And I'm a Goddess on a daily basis" Venus dismissed making him snort, "You're dyslexic and ADHD. You can read and speak both Latin _and _Greek instinctively" she continued, "You love fighting and the reason you enjoy Quidditch is because of the adrenaline rush it gives you".

Staring at the woman in shock Harry slowly moved over to sit back down, "You're telling the truth" he realised softly. "If… if you're my mother then why was I with Mu- Lily and James then?" he demanded, feeling like he had the right to be angry with this revelation, "Why was I sent to the Dursleys if they're not even related to me?"

"Because I'm a Goddess" Venus repeated, "Being born a… being born as you were... meant your father and I could not raise you on Olympus. As a baby you would have been overwhelmed by the amount of Godly power on Olympus, I gave you to your sister, my daughter, because I wanted you to be able to live a proper life".

"Being born as I was?" Harry echoed as his eyes narrowed, standing and moving away from the woman, "Even if I believe you about all this, what does _that_ mean?"

"I'm a Goddess Harry" Venus repeated coldly, her face turning to ice as Harry flinched back from the amount of power he could feel beginning to permeate the air, "I have better, more important, things to do than go around tricking mere _mortals_ into believing their my children for my own entertainment. You are my Son and I will _not_ have you denying me" she growled out as Harry backed up and tripped over the marble bench opposite the one the Goddess was sitting on.

"Now, as I was saying" Venus continued as her face was once more split into a gentle smile and her power was drawn back into her, leaving Harry to scramble to his feet. "When a God has a child with a Human, the child is a Demigod, half human and half God" she explained, "But when a God has a child with another God the child is a God, _normally_".

"So my parents are Gods but I'm not" Harry mumbled as he stared at Venus dumbly, "Right, of course, that makes so much sense" he drawled sarcastically, unable to stop himself from expressing some of the disbelief that was welling up in his chest.

"Do you think it's just been coincidence after coincidence all these years?" Venus asked pointedly, "Why would it be _you_ that fights off a possessed Mortal to save the Philosopher's Stone? Why it was _you_ that fought and killed a basilisk? Why it was _you_ that fended off over a hundred Dementors with a single spell? Why it was _you_ that were entered into the Tournament? I imagine that even if Crouch hadn't put your name in it would have been pulled out anyway" she explained softly, "As a Son of Olympus events like this are naturally 'pulled' to your essence".

Harry just stared at the Goddess in front of him, trying desperately to come up with a counter-argument to the issue of 'Why him?' that had been plaguing him since he stepped foot in the Wizarding World. Realising he had nothing Harry just dropped his gaze to his arm as he started pinching it hopefully, mentally begging to just wake up and get away from his strangely disturbing nightmare.

"You're not sleeping Harry" Venus corrected sounding amused, "You are, in Wizarding terms, a Squib. Born without the Immortality that makes a God what we are, without Immortality a God's sheer power would burn out their essence. This lack of immortality is why at first glance you're only a Demigod, your essence cannot handle the power of a God and therefore you've got as much as your essence and body can handle".

Moving slowly Harry lowered himself onto the bench in front of him, "Prove it" he demanded simply, "You say I'm a Squib-God-thing, then prove it. Please" he added when Venus just raised her eyebrow at him.

Instead of replying Venus just inclined her head at him, her skin rippling for a second before it was splitting apart, a near blinding red-pink light radiating through the room as Venus was replaced by a humanoid mass of swirling energy that pulsed out incinerating everything around the two of them. As Harry was knocked off the shattering bench and to the floor, a indescribable pain exploded across his forehead, something letting out a furious shriek as Harry saw something dark being burned away by the Goddess' sheer power. As the wraith that Harry swore was coming from his scar gave a final scream and vanished Venus' power was being reeled in as she took a human form once more, reaching up absently to put out the small flame burning at the rose still in her hair.

"Wha- what was that?" Harry gasped out, shivering as he raised his hand to brush it over the throbbing scar, flinching at the sight of the black blood pouring from it.

"That was my divine form" Venus confessed as she stood and swayed over, a pink flowery handkerchief appearing in her hand that she used to gently dab at his forehead. "All of my essence in one place without a physical shell to mask it. A Mortal would be disintegrated by my mere presence and it would kill any Demigod that looked at it. Only a divine being could have seen it and survived as you did".

"I have a headache" Harry whined without thinking, blushing as Venus let out a musical chuckle.

"That was because I directed my power to tear out the abomination residing in your scar" she explained, "The shard of that _thing's_ soul required almost all of your Godly powers to suppress".

"WHAT?" Harry yelled, jerking to his feet and almost knocking Venus back, the Goddess merely raising an eyebrow at him expectantly. "A shard of a soul?" he demanded, "You mean like- As in a shard of _his_ soul- was in my _head_?" he exclaimed furiously making Venus nod simply. "But that's disgusting!" he blurted as nausea built up inside him, "That's fou-" he felt the wind falling from his sails as another thought crossed his mind, "He knew" he whispered softly, "Dumbledore knew".

"I believe that Albus Dumbledore indeed suspects that your scar is what Wizards know as a 'Horcrux'" Venus admitted.

"And he just left it in me?" Harry realised as his legs went limp and he collapsed back down to the ground with a sharp of exhale.

"As much as I hate to admit it, there is no way for Mortals to remove a Horcrux without destroying the Host" Venus confessed, "While Albus Dumbledore continues to search for a way to remove it without killing you, he believes that the only way to for it be destroyed is for Voldemort to kill you. _But_" she continued as Harry's face twisted in anger, "He _is_ trying to figure out a way for you to survive, he may be misguided in his actions but he is still good at heart".

Pulling his legs up to his chest Harry blinked up at Venus slowly, "Why are you here?" he asked softly, "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You may be mortal but you are still my Son" Venus explained gently, "And while I have given you your space to live as you choose, I cannot stand by while the Wizarding World treats you like this. I admit that, as with all Olympians I make mistakes when it comes to how I treat my children, but I am trying to be a good Mother to your brothers and sisters. Whether it's giving them a shoulder to cry on at night or just giving them the skirt they were eying in a magazine I do what I can".

"You're here to help me?" Harry realised gently, "You're really my mother?"

"I am" Venus confirmed with a gentle fond look as she reached out to brush his fringe from his face.

"You… you said _both_ my parents were Gods" Harry began, cutting himself off as Venus' face darkened.

"I would rather not speak of your father" she said coldly, "I spoke to him about approaching you years ago, you needed guidance and Jupiter wouldn't have noticed if he vanished for an hour or so. He refused however, he was ashamed to have a Mortal child" she explained with a stubborn clench of her jaw that Harry saw in the mirror everyday.

Pushing aside the surge of anger at the reason his 'father' wanted nothing to do with him Harry watched as Venus slowly lowered herself down to sit in front of him. "Harry" she began slowly, "My son. I can erase this conversation from your mind, you can return to being the son of James and Lily if you so choose, you can return to being an above average Wizard. Or you can remember this, you can remember me, you can remember your heritage and accept the power that comes with it" she said softly, "You can accept your birthright or return to your life none the wi-".

"No" Harry interrupted, swallowing nervously as he meet her emerald green eyes, "No. I want to remember. I'm sick of being a doormat that everyone walks over, I've had it with them"

"That's my boy" Venus said with a proud smile.

"What should I do?" Harry asked slowly, "How do I make them pay?"

"Us Gods are known for being harsh and unforgiving beings when insulted" Venus replied with a smirk, "And since you are genetically a God, I think it's time for you to show just how harsh and unforgiving you can be".


	22. As One

**I don't own Harry Potter.**  
Language – Violence.

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**DZ2's The Golden Rebellion **Challenge.

**Plot:** When the Ministry turned on Harry Potter and tried to crush his spirits, they forgot one thing; the Golden Trio are called such for a reason, and they're not going to take this sitting down.

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Harry Potter yawned as he absently scratched at the back of his head, wincing at the feel of the growing egg hidden beneath his hair.

Flipping the bacon frying in the pan slowly, Harry scooped it out and onto the plate heating in the oven. As a thump sounded upstairs he faltered, turning his head to the side to listen carefully to what was obviously his fat Uncle finally getting up, most likely woken by the smell of the bacon Aunt Petunia was making Harry cook for them. Quickly returning his attention to the stove, Harry put more bacon in as he heard his Aunt moving around in the living room.

"Hurry up boy" Petunia snapped as she entered the kitchen, "Aren't you done yet?"

"Almost Aunt Petunia" Harry assured her politely, not wanting to piss his Aunt off when he had the promise of two weeks alone while his relatives went on holiday. "Would you like me to set the table as well?"

"Don't bother" Petunia scoffed, "I don't want you to ruin everything".

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his Aunt's inability to come up with new insults, instead focusing his attention on not burning anything. He was just finishing up when Vernon and Dudley power-waddled into the kitchen with greedy expressions on their faces, the two obese males not hesitating to sit down on creaking chairs.

"Boy! Go to your room!" Vernon barked, Harry not stopping himself from rolling his eyes this time, "You can come down once we're gone".

"Yes Uncle Vernon" Harry agreed instantly, handing the cooking over to his Aunt and quickly leaving the room. Entering his room Harry allowed a smirk for form on his face as he reached up his shirt and pulled out the sealed plastic bag containing the sandwich he had made himself before Petunia had even woken up that morning.

Taking a bite, Harry glanced at the clock on the wall before opening the the window in anticipation for the Daily Prophet, settling himself behind his desk with a sigh as he pulled his half-done Transfiguration homework towards him. Picking up a pen in his other hand, Harry started reading over what he had done so far, quickly finishing his breakfast. Catching himself up and continuing where he had left off, Harry lost himself in his work, barely pausing when he heard his relatives stomping past his room to finish packing.

He had just finished the essay and set the pen down when an owl swooped in through the open window, causing him to reach out absently to grab the knut he had left on the corner of his desk and paid the owl. Opening the newspaper as he pushed his essay away from himself, Harry scowled as the first words that he saw on the Prophet were '_The Boy-Who-Lied!'_ Trying to ignore his growing desire to just throw in the towel and leave the Wizards to sort themselves out, Harry instead focused on skimming through the newspaper for any hint at Voldemort's actions.

As a growl rumbled up from his chest Harry twisted to his feet and threw the newspaper across the room, breathing quickly as he tried to stop himself from losing his temper. According to both Sirius and Remus he had his mother's temper, and according to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick when his mother got angry _no one_ stood in her way, even Voldemort himself fled from her when she lost her temper…

Faltering as he heard the doorbell ring, Harry started pacing through his room, his mind drifting to it's favorite topic of the month. Would the Supreme American Society of Sorcerers (Which had the best acronym _ever_) accept his pleas for sanctuary if he gathered up everything he owned and all his gold and fled Britain? And would they accept Sirius and Remus if he dragged them along with him?

"BOY!" Vernon's voice screamed up the stairs making Harry sigh sadly, "GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Groaning as he realised he now had to sit through a lecture on how his Uncle expected to find the house in pristine condition when they returned, Harry left his room and started down the hallway, making it halfway down the stairs before he froze at the sight in front of him.

"Hello Harry" Hermione ground out as she glared at Vernon, her wand aimed directly between the sweating man's eyes, Ron standing behind her with his wand aimed at Petunia who was watching from the kitchen doorway. "Should we take this to your bedroom?" she asked slowly, "It's more private in there".

"What are you two doing here?" Harry blurted, trying to stop himself from sounding as bitter as he felt.

"We should go to your room mate" Ron explained slowly, "Don't want these Muggles listening in".

Finding his jaw clenching again, Harry's hand slipped behind his back to his wand which was sticking out of his pocket. "Who did I think I saw in third year chasing away the Dementors?" Harry asked as he whipped it out and aimed it at his 'friends'.

"Your father" Hermione replied instantly, "But it turned out you had really seen yourself. What did I call Malfoy that morning?"

"A foul loathsome evil little cockroach" Harry mumbled before turning to Ron, "What was my first Chocolate Frog card?"

"Dumbledore. I had around six of him" Ron answered obediently, "Any chance of getting some food? I'm starving" he added sheepishly.

Lowering his wand Harry eyed them both before nodding, turning and heading back up the stairs as he heard them following him up. Entering his room Harry quickly pulled up the floorboard and brought out the cooler with the preservation charm on it, opening it and lifting it onto his bed as Ron and Hermione stepped into his room. "Help yourself" he offered waving his hand, and making Ron grin as he bounced over to the cooler and started ruffling through it, "What are you two doing here? You haven't answered any of my letters and now you show up in person?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged nervous looks before Hermione cleared her throat, "We haven't been given your letters Harry" she explained hesitantly, "Mrs Weasley confiscates them and gives them to Dumbledore. We've been ordered to keep no contact with you until you're brought to the Zoo".

"Brought where?" Harry echoed in confusion, his hands clenching into fists as he mentally declared Dumbledore as an enemy of his.

"The Zoo is under the fidelius Harry" Hermione confessed awkwardly, "I can't tell you about it"

"The Zoo is just a code name" Ron added through a mouthful of one of the muffins Mrs Weasley had sent him home with at King's Cross Station. "Cool eh?"

Harry stared at them both for a moment before letting his breath out in a sharp rush, "I can't really be angry at you for that can I?" he asked softly, "I mean if you had waited till I was brought to the uh… Zoo… then I would have been, but at least you found a way".

"Oh Harry" Hermione blurted before lunging at him, his arms coming straight up to respond to the back-breaking hug she was giving him. "I'm so sorry, we argued Dumbledore's orders, we really did, but he threatened to leave you in this _dump_ if we kept pressing him" she babbled out.

"I believe you" Harry assured her quickly as he caught sight of the tears welling up in her eyes, "I believe you" he repeated glancing past Hermione's no longer bushy hair to Ron. "But why… why are you here? And how did you get here?" he asked curiously.

"Oh Dobby?" Ron called out with a grin, Harry watching in shock as the House Elf appeared with a tower of woolen hats on his head and a grin wider than Ron's.

"MASTER HARRY POTTER SIR!" Dobby exclaimed as he literally pushed Hermione out of the way and jumped into Harry's arms for a hug of his own, a shocked Harry just going with it as Hermione giggled. "Dobby be helping Master Harry Potter Sir in anyway he can!" Dobby declared with a nod as Harry set him down on the bed. As Harry opened his mouth to reply Dobby glanced around his room with a scandalised expression, "Master Harry Potter Sir cannot stay here! Dobby will clean!"

"Don't argue" Hermione suggested as Harry watched the happy House Elf bounce around his room with a feather duster, "He won't listen to you".

"SPEW" Harry deadpanned making his brunette friend blush.

"Dobby explained some things to her mate" Ron whispered, "She's more about treating them well and stopping their abuse than freeing them now".

"I had my eyes opened" Hermione sniffed, "And I've apologized to the House Elves at Hogwarts through Dobby. _Anyway_, back to your first question. We're here because of this" she clarified as she held up the copy of the Daily Prophet Harry had thrown, "And because Dumbledore and his Order believe that as children we're not part of this war and that we should be left ignorant and stupid".

"And if there's one thing Hermione Granger isn't, it's stupid" Harry murmured making Hermione smirk at him.

"Exactly" Hermione agreed simply, "Anyway, Ron and I were talking, and Ron actually came up with a brilliant idea".

"It happens" Ron said with a casual shrug as Harry glanced at him. "I said that with the way the Ministry and the Order were reacting to the threat of Voldemort, that the only way the war would be ended is if Harry, that's you by the way, formed your own army to take him down" the redhead explained slowly.

"And you're here to help me form my own army?" Harry snorted, looking between the two in amusement, "Oh Merlin you're actually _serious_?"

"No that's your Godfather" Hermione corrected instantly before slapping her hands over her mouth as Ron barked out a laugh, "Ever mention that again and I'll castrate both of you" she threatened bluntly making both the smirking Harry and the chuckling Ron freeze and cover their groins.

"Seriously Hermione? I'm fifteen, I can't fight Voldemort let alone" he cut himself off as Dobby tugged at his sleeve.

"Master Harry Potter Sir has no lemon pledge" Dobby whispered making Harry blink at him in confusion.

"Can't you just use normal stuff?" Harry asked dumbly.

"No, no" Dobby exhaled slowly, shaking his head and making his ears flap around his face.

"Check downstairs, I think there's some in the cupboard beneath the stairs" Harry suggested making Dobby nod and vanish. Shaking his head he returned his attention back to the amused looking Ron and the almost catatonic Hermione who had tears of silent laughter streaming down her face, "Is something wrong?" he asked her nervously.

"No, no" Hermione gasped out, "No lemon pledge on Star Destroyer!"

"Right" Harry muttered, "Like I was saying, I can't fight Voldemort let alone form and army".

"That!" Hermione blurted before clearing her throat and wiping her face. "That" she repeated normally, "Is why we're going to start training ourselves to fight. I uh, _borrowed_, some of the books from the Zoo's library about offensive and defensive magics and we're going to study them together" she explained.

"Voldemort has decades of experience" Harry said bluntly.

"And you killed a Basilisk, chased off over a hundred Dementors with one spell, and fought him to a draw one and defeated him three other times before that" Ron countered. "If anyone can defeat him, you can. Once we get some training of course, stunning spells aren't going to do much".

"Wait, we?" Harry echoed, "No. If I do this then I do this alone. I'm not letting you two get hurt because of me" he refused stubbornly.

"I don't think he gets it yet" Ron stage-whispered to Hermione making Harry blink slowly.

"He _is_ rather daft" Hermione agreed.

"I'm right here you know" Harry pointed out.

"Harry. Your father had the Marauders" Hermione said slowly.

"Yeah, and?" Harry asked expectantly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"And he, Sirius, and Pettigrew all learnt the animagus transformation just to be with Professor Lupin" Hermione explained. "There may only be three of us, but when one of us needs help, the other two stand with them. We're not called the 'Golden Trio' for nothing after all".

"Yeah that's at Hogwarts though" Harry argued, "This is war".

"Then I guess we better start training if we want to catch up" Ron confirmed making Harry frown.

"No we better not" Harry denied. "I'm not some werewolf you can learn the animagus training for. Voldemort is going to come after me, and he's going to go for you to make me suffer".

"I'm a Mudblood" Hermione snapped making both Harry and Ron flinch, "And Ron's a Blood-Traitor. He'd be going after us anyway, and since we're your friends it just means he'll be doing it sooner or later. If you want to keep us safe, you've got to help train us so that we can defend ourselves".

Harry stared at her for a moment before glancing at Ron who merely nodded at him, "Hermione's right mate, I turned my back on you last year and I regret it, I'm not going to do the same ever again. We're all in this together".

"Once we know that we are, we're all stars" Hermione finished making Harry and Ron exchange a confused look, "Never mind" she dismissed. "To the Golden Trio" she declared, striding forward to stick her hand out, "We fight for what's Right, as One".

Harry watched as Ron stood and moved over to join Hermione, sticking his large hand over hers, "To the Golden Trio" he declared, "We fight for each other, as One".

Eyeing the two of them Harry licked his lips nervously before joining them and placing his hand on top of Ron's.

"To the Golden Trio" he finished hesitantly, "We fight as One".


	23. Price of Sacrifice

**I don't own Harry Potter or BBC's Merlin.**  
Violence – Language

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**DZ2's Take Me Instead **Challenge.

**Plot:** We all know that Harry has a bad habit of risking his neck for others, but what if he takes that self-sacrifice to the next level?

* * *

_**And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.**_

_**From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say **_"**Kill the spare".**

"NO!"

Forcing aside the pain Harry threw himself forward, spreading his arms out wide as he realised exactly where he recognised the voice from. "Wait!" he yelled out, automatically protecting the older boy he had come to see as a friend, "Please don't!"

"Oh?" Voldemort's amused voice issued from the bundle in the hooded man's arms, a snake-like hiss to his words. "And why would I wish to do that Potter?"

"What?" Cedric blurted, looking between them in confusion, "Who are you?"

"Lord Voldemort" Harry whispered making a strangled snort escape Cedric's lips. "He's innocent!" he called out to Voldemort,"He doesn't deserve this! Let him leave".

"Really Potter?" Cedric asked as he pulled Harry to the side, raising his eyebrow at the hooded man, "You really think that's You-Know-Who? Maybe you are a little crazy" he joked under his breath.

"I'm not joking" Harry murmured, ""Please. Let him leave" he continued, "He's in the wrong place at the wrong time".

"What a shame" Voldemort drawled, "I only need you however Potter, so AVADA"

"NO!" Harry repeated, stepping forward with his arms raised, "I'll stay" he blurted nervously. "I'll stay, you just let Cedric go. Take me instead, I'll do anything".

"Hmmm… you drive a hard bargain there Potter" Voldemort hissed thoughtfully. "But no" he deadpanned, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Moving on instinct Harry threw himself to the side, jumping between Cedric and the blast of green light, feeling it striking him in the chest before everything went black.

* * *

Cedric grunted as Harry threw himself at him, knocking them both backwards and off their feet, Cedric's head slamming into the gravestone they fell against.

Scowling as he scrambled for his wand Cedric threw Harry off him, and rolled to his knees, aiming his wand at the man who had thrown the Killing Curse at them. Fighting through the wave of dizziness that rolled through his body at the sudden movement, Cedric fought down the urge to vomit as he kicked gently at the prone Harry.

"Get up" he hissed quickly as the hooded man let out a shriek of pain.

"YOU FOOL!" 'You-Know-Who's' voice snarled, "YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!"

Swallowing nervously as his mind connected the dots, Cedric slowly turned to meet two empty emerald green orbs, Harry laying there completely unmoving with an angry twist of his lips on his otherwise expressionless and still face. Feeling his mouth going dry, Cedric fell forward onto his hands and knees in shock, barely noticing as Harry's scar cracked open and leaked black goo. Feeling nothing but a kind of numb disbelief, Cedric looked up to stare at the murderer standing opposite him, one of the men (In one body or something since there was only one person there) snarling at 'Wormtail' that they'd need to find someone else to fulfill the ritual.

Feeling a rush of anger filling him Cedric forced himself to his feet and raised his wand again, gathering up his magic and sending an over-powered _reducto _at the hooded figure who, at the hissing man's warning, dropped the bundle in his hands and cast a shielding spell that shattered the moment Cedric's spell struck it. "Bombarda Maxima!" Cedric shouted, almost instantly thrusting his wand at the gravestone to his right, muttering out a spell before sending a quick fireball at the hooded man as the gravestone was transfigured into a stone dog.

"Petra canis vita animae" Cedric whispered, casting a series of spells at the hooded man to distract him from the glowing stone dog that suddenly came to life and shot off towards him. Thrusting his wand forward and sending a stream of ropes at the man, Cedric sneered darkly as the man flailed to avoid the ropes and stepped right into the path of Cedric's animated hound. Casting a second incarcerous, Cedric followed it up with a stunning spell, throwing a second one to be sure.

Vanishing his animated dog, Cedric eyed the graveyard once more to be sure they were alone before turning and stumbling back over to Harry, dropping to his knees as his eyes stung. He had died for him… Harry had died for him… Why? As much as he wanted to claim the opposite, he knew that he could never have done that for Harry. Cedric wasn't a coward but that didn't mean he was as brave or selfless as Harry was, sure he would have tried to help but he would never have offered himself up like that.

Wiping at his face Cedric shook his head, at least he could bring that hooded coward back to Hogwarts to face justice. That and Harry's body, he knew Harry would insist on bringing his body back if it had been him in Harry's place. And admittedly part of him wished it was, he still felt numb, he didn't know how else to feel about his death other than guilt…

Swallowing dryly Cedric stood again, turning around in time for a flash of light to blind him as his wand was torn from his grasp while he was thrown backwards. Scrambling to his feet again Cedric froze at the sight of the hooded man standing there, wand pointed at him and looking completely unstunned and unbound.

"Nice try boy" a voice hissed out as Cedric cursed himself for letting his guard down, "Kill him".

"Why?" Cedric blurted, edging away from Harry's body towards where he knew the cup was, if he could get to it then perhaps he could come back with reinforcements after all. "Why are you doing this?"

"The Dark Lord will rise once more" a whimpering voice came from inside the hood, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"ACCIO CEDRIC!"

As the bolt of green light flew towards him, Cedric was lifted off his feet and dragged back towards Harry's body, hitting the ground and sliding to a halt in front of Harry, eyes lifting up to meet two glowing gold irises.

"Harry" he exhaled in shock, watching as the dead boy slowly climbed to his feet with the ghost of a smirk flashing across his face.

"Hello Peter Pettigrew" Harry said softly, his voice echoing through the graveyard as Cedric stared at him dumbly, "I would recognise that quivering voice of yours anywhere".

"Harry" Cedric blurted, "How?"

Harry glanced over at him and grinned, "No bloody idea" the raven-haired boy confessed bluntly before his smile vanished and he turned back to 'Peter'. "Now… where were we?" Harry asked innocently before he was raising his hands, a trickle of fire sprouting from the tip of his wand and gathering in a ball of fire that hovered between his hand and wand, "That's right. You killed me".

* * *

Moving on instinct and obeying the whispers of the magic in his veins, Harry thrust his hands forward, reshaping the fireball into a stream that he threw at Pettigrew. As the rat animagus flailed and waved his wand wildly to redirect the flames to the side, Harry sent an added _flippendo_ after him, watching as it knocked off his hood to reveal the rat-faced man Harry hated.

Eyes narrowing as they drifted down to the squirming bundle to the side, Harry changed the angle of his wand, instead focusing on Voldemort as a spell prepared itself on his tongue.

As Pettigrew retaliated, Harry snapped his wand to the side and he cast a silent _protego_ charm, watching as the weak stunner splashed against the golden shield shimmering in front of him. Pulling his wand back Harry twisted it in a circle, the shield being sucked back into the tip of his wand before Harry thrust it forward and threw a bolt of golden energy at Pettigrew, lifting him off the ground and throwing him into an angel statue.

Turning back to Voldemort Harry let out a snarl as Pettigrew sent a spell at him from the ground, sending a non-verbal _reducto_ at the animagus that betrayed his parents, watching as the 'man' scrambled to the side.

"Bombarda Maxima!" Pettigrew yelled as Harry shouted out "Expelliarmus!"

The two bolts of light connected in mid-air and Harry was treated to a repeat of earlier that year as they deflected off each other, forcing him to cast a shield to stop Cedric from being struck by his disarming charm as Pettigrew's exploding hex bounced back and struck the bundle Voldemort was in.

Harry froze and watched in horror as, with a piercing shriek, a black wraith shot up from the small crater in the ground and hovered in the air.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry incanted as the wraith started towards him, a golden phoenix exploding from the tip of his wand and shocking everyone present as the wraith screeched in pain at the sound of the phoenix song and changed directions, darting towards Pettigrew and forcing its way down his throat.

"Impressive" Pettigrew ground out as he straightened and cracked his neck slowly, "For a school boy" he finished as his eyes opened again to reveal red silts. "Then again, Wormtail is not the most talented opponent" Pettimort continued slowly, "Do you wish to try your hand against the might of the greatest Sorcerer to have lived?"

"Doctor Strange is here?" Harry asked innocently, the singing of his magic making him feel cheekier than he normally would be in a situation like this. (Not that he was complaining of course, he wanted to ride this high for as long as he could). He knew he couldn't defeat Voldemort, the best he could hope for was to distract him long enough for Harry to work himself and Cedric into position to summon the Cup and return to Hogwarts, hoping that the Cup was a return portkey as well.

Instead of asking who that was or even taunting Harry some more, Voldemort pulled out the big guns by yelling "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Twisting in place, Harry cast both a banishing charm and a summoning one, the first spell striking Cedric in the chest and knocking him away from the 'arena' as the second spell summoned a gravestone to intercept the killing curse. "Oppugno!" he shouted as the gravestone exploded into pieces, the shards of stone hovering in mid air for a moment before shooting through the air at Pettimort who blasted them from the air with a lazy wave of his wand.

Twisting his wand through the air Harry concentrated on what he wanted, gathering up more power than the spell called for as he raised his and before whipping it down at Voldemort. "Fulgens Ignis!" Harry yelled, knowing that he wouldn't be able to manage the spell silently as he had been doing since his 'death'.

As magic rushed through his wand a pulse of white fire exploded from the tip, hovering there for a moment before a circular beam of flames flew across the graveyard at Voldemort. Instead of striking Voldemort twisted his wand, muttering something and causing the fire to wrap around him like a dome before he continued chanting and raised his wand to point it at the sky.

Harry swallowed nervously as the fire rose up to form a long neck, two wings growing seconds later as Voldemort let out a dark laugh as the dragon made of white fire towered over them both. Raising his wand Harry tapped into as much magic as he felt was safe and took aim as Voldemort slashed his wand down at him. "Glacius Tria" he shouted, forcing as much power through his wand as he could and watching as three beams of ice burst from his wand and met the white dragon in mid-air.

He staggered back as the force of the collision sent a shockwave down his wand, Voldemort's spell overpowering his, slowly but steadily. As Harry was pushed back he let out a growl and poured more power into the spell, his magic twinging warningly at him and making him snarl as he dropped the spell and started casting a powerful flame-freezing spell on himself in time for the white flame dragon to roll over him. Fighting down his urge to giggle at the tickling feeling the spell induced in him, Harry instead took aim at where he knew Voldemort was and rapidly cast several _reducto_s at the Dark Lord.

As the fire vanished, Harry watched Voldemort deflect his spells and thrust his wand forward with a whispered "Bombarda Maxima" which he quickly followed with an "Lumos Solem!" that fired a beam of sunlight at Voldemort. A shout of pain filled the air as Harry cut the spell off, a grin forming on his face as he watched Voldemort clutching at Pettigrew's arm that ended abruptly at the elbow. His grin vanished as Voldemort simply waved a wand over his arm and conjured up a hand of what looked like silver, flexing it slowly before his wand lashed out at him with a snarled "Crucio!"

Throwing himself to the side, Harry avoiding a red bolt of light and cast the first spell that came to mind. The jet of blue light flew true and struck Voldemort in the face, a strangled giggle escaping his lips as he watched violent looking pimples beginning to sprout across the Dark Lord's face.

"You _dare_ cast such spells on me?" Voldemort roared angrily as he threw several balls of black-purple energy at Harry that he summoned gravestones in front of me, "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT! CRUCIO!"

Harry once more dove to the side to dodge the bolt of red light that erupted from the end of Voldemort's wand, rolling up to his feet and raising his own wand as they both shouted out a spell.

Twin bolts of lightning collided in the middle of the graveyard, the Gryffindor Red of Harry's _expelliarmus_ clashing with the Slytherin Green of Voldemort's _avada kedavra_, thin threads of electricity of both colors arcing out from the centre.

As a silver light starting glowing where the two bolts connected, Harry tried to push more magic down his wand, gasping in shock as he held onto his wand with both hands. A pained whine slipped from his throat as Harry a golden dome exploded from where their spells touched, flowing straight through both of them and spreading out to surround them both as Harry's feet were pushed back a step.

Letting out a groan Harry forced himself forward, the silver ball of light slowing in its path towards him and instead moving down towards Voldemort's wand. Continuing his so far lucky streak, Harry watched as the ball of light touched the end of Voldemort's wand, the Dark Lord letting out a startled honking noise that could fuel Harry's Patronus for the rest of his life. Suddenly three balls of golden light exploded from the end of Voldemort's wand and rose into the air, flying over and taking the shape of two familiar people and one unfamiliar man.

"Harry!" the man who looked like his father exclaimed, "When the connection breaks you _must_ get Cedric to the portkey! We can linger a moment to give you some time, but only a moment! Do you understand!"

As Harry nodded shakily, unable to speak as he concentrated on keeping the ball against Voldemort's wand.

"Let go" his mother's voice echoed, "Sweetheart you're ready! Let go, run!"

Nodding again Harry focused his attention on the spell and prepared himself to run, jerking the beam to the side and causing the two faux-lightning bolts to shatter an angel statue. As the three spirits shot towards Voldemort, Harry spun around and ran straight at the dumbfounded looking Cedric, tackling the older boy as he summoned the portkey.

"REDUCTO!"

A blue bolt of light struck the Cup and it shattered into pieces, causing Harry to scramble to his feet, dragging the winded Cedric after him as he darted behind a small mausoleum.

"AURORS! FREEZE!" filled the air suddenly and Harry and Cedric exchanged shocked looks before almost falling over themselves to peer around the mausoleum, watching as the horde of red-robed wizards and witches swarmed into sight. "EXPELLIARMUS!" the aurors screamed as Voldemort twisted in place and turned into a black whirlwind that vanished, leaving the red spells flying true and striking their fellow aurors.

"Aurors" Cedric gasped out as Harry panted, "Thank Merlin. Harry? Are you okay?" the older boy blurted as Harry swayed in place.

"Yeah. I'm fine" Harry dismissed as a tall monocled woman led a squad of aurors towards them, "I'm fine" he repeated before falling forward and collapsing into Cedric's arms as everything went black.


	24. Bloodless

**I don't own Harry Potter or Twilight.**

* * *

**DZ2's Blood and Magic **Challenge.

**Plot:** Summer holidays are meant to be a time away from trouble, but not when your name is Harry James Potter. Bitten and turned into a vampire, now our hero seeks his survival.

* * *

"Ronald stop eating for once in your life and get your trunk down here! Ginny love put Crookshanks down and go check on Hermione please! AND IF YOU TWO DON'T STOP THAT THIS INSTANT I WILL PUT YOU OVER MY KNEE AND SPANK YOU! Oh and Harry dear?"

Harry smiled awkwardly at Mrs Weasley from his place in the doorway, watching the usual 'back to school' rush as everyone hurried around Grimmauld Place like headless chickens. "Wipe that look off your face Harry" she scolded, "The Headmaster will overturn your expulsion and have you back at Hogwarts before you know it".

"I know Mrs Weasley" Harry lied slowly, "It's just strange to not be going to Hogwarts this year".

Mrs Weasley smiled at him fondly, "No matter what I expect to see you here for Christmas" she ordered, "Even if you have to bring all your new friends with you" she added pointedly, "I want to hear all about this new school".

Harry's smile fell instantly as the Weasley Matriarch turned away from him, instead turning into an open-mouthed look of confusion. "_What_ new school?" he blurted dumbly, making Mrs Weasley turn back to him with a matching confused look.

"Didn't Albus tell you?" she asked looking shocked, "He's arranged for you to attend a new school so your education doesn't suffer while you can't practice magic" she explained. "You'll be blending in with Muggles, the Ministry and You-Know-Who will never search for you in a Muggle boarding school. Spenser Academy I think he called it".

Harry just forced himself to nod and smile politely, his mind racing as he processed this new information. He couldn't believe Dumbledore… it was all his fault that Harry had been expelled in the first place and yet he still believed that he could just pulled the strings and make Harry dance?

Movement pulled his attention to the glaring Sirius, the dog animagus stalking into the room with furious grey eyes locked on the started Mrs Weasley. "And exactly when was Albus planning on asking for either Harry's or my permissions on his idea?" Harry's godfather demanded making Mrs Weasley puff up her chest in indignation.

"Albus doesn't have to ask permission!" Mrs Weasley began, "He"-

"Has no power over Harry" Sirius interrupted coldly, "Harry is _my_ godson, not his. Albus has _no_ right to decide what Harry does or does not do. And for your information, Harry and I have already made plans for his education this year, we're looking forward to it aren't we Pup?"

"Yeah. We are" Harry confirmed when Mrs Weasley turned angry eyes on him, "We were going to redecorate this place together with Professor Lupin teaching me".

"Yes well as lovely a person as Remus is, he's still a werewolf Harry" Mrs Weasley said dismissively, "He's not suitable to teach impressionable children".

Harry's throat closed up at Mrs Weasley's words, leaving him standing there with wide eyes as Mrs Weasley's hands slapped up over her mouth in shock. "Oh" he ground out as Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to speak, "I didn't know you were a worthless racist bitch" he drawled out bluntly, "Thank you for letting me know before I went out and asked a vampire to bite me for the thrill of it".

Mrs Weasley just spluttered in response, looking torn between fury at his insult, guilt at what she had let slip, and flustered at his comment about vampires.

"Get out of my house".

"Excuse me?" Mrs Weasley demanded as Harry's eyes flicked to the fuming Sirius Black "Now see here"

"Get" Sirius interrupted darkly, his eyes actually glowing as barely restrained magic whipped at his hair, "Out. Of my house". Stepping forward as his wand appeared in his hand, Sirius glared at Mrs Weasley until she stepped back in fear. "I want you and your brood out of my house by midday. I will not have you living beneath my roof when you so blatantly insult my brother in all but blood" the dog-minded wizard snarled angrily.

"Now now Sirius" Dumbledore's voice said from the doorway, "I'm sure you just misunderstood Molly is all. There is no need for such unforgiving behaviour".

"Bite me Albus" Sirius spat as Mrs Weasley smirked and raised her chin smugly, Harry barely hiding his own smirk as Dumbledore almost tripped over deep purple robes in shock. "There was no misunderstanding what she said" he continued as Mrs Weasley squawked in outrage at his words, "I have had enough of her 'unforgiving behaviour' as you put it. This is _my _house, Harry is _my _godson, and as such she has no control over either. And on the topic of Harry" Sirius added with a growl as he turned on Dumbledore, "What is the meaning of your so-called 'plans' for Harry this year?"

"Well Sirius. I merely believed Harry would prefer to attend a normal school this year" Dumbledore began, "Molly and I agreed that by attending a Muggle school he could interact with his peers without threat of Voldemort until such a time he can return to Hogwarts and our world".

"Really?" Sirius exhaled dramatically, "Because Harry and I agreed that he'd be staying at Grimmauld Place with me and helping me redecorate this hell hole".

"I'm afraid you do not have a choice in the matter Sirius" Dumbledore denied, "This is for Harry's own good".

"What a shame" Harry interrupted making Dumbledore blink at him in shock, "Because like Sirius said earlier, you have no power over me. Sirius is my godfather, not you. I wanted to stay with him this year and he agreed, your opinion is understood and ignored, we've made up our minds".

"Harry!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, "You will show the Headmaster some respect!"

"Why?" Harry countered simply making the large woman freeze, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "He's not _my_ Headmaster after all" he pointed out, "Besides, if he wanted me to show him some respect then he should have done something to earn it instead of leaving me out of the loop when I needed it most. It was because of the Headmaster that I was expelled after all, I have witnesses telling me there was no need to study up on magical law because he'd be there to speak in my defense" Harry paused to shoot the unrepentant looking Headmaster a dark look. "But where were you _Mr_ Dumbledore, because you most certainly weren't at my trial when I was getting expelled because of you".

"You tell him Pup" Sirius praised with a grin, Harry catching sight of the mixed looks of approval, glee, or downright anger and disappointment coming from the other Weasleys and Hermione where they were gathered around the doorway.

"I'm afraid Harry that this has already been arranged" Dumbledore started.

"Then _un-_arrange it" Harry snapped, "Because I'm through with you"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER"

"OH SHUT UP!" Harry roared back, watching as Mrs Weasley flinched back and almost fell over backwards. "You are _not_ my mother Mrs Weasley! My mother chose _Sirius_ as my guardian, not you! You have the same amount of control over me as Dumbledore does. _Absolutely none_".

"HEY! Don't you talk to my mother like that!" Ron shouted as he barreled into the room.

"Oh go suck off Malfoy" Harry countered, smirking at the scandalized looks on everyone else's faces. "Yeah I learnt that one at the Dursley's, you should really stop sending me there" he pointed out smugly.

"Well good news Pup. You don't have to go back there ever again" Sirius piped up, "I thought I told you that" he added with a frown.

"Actually, the Dursleys are one thing I will _not_ be backing down on" Dumbledore corrected, "While I am aware that your childhood was never the happiest, the blood wards your aunt powers are too important a resource to ignore".

As Sirius argued with Dumbledore, Harry felt his mind shutting down. When the Dementors had attacked him, Mrs Figg had admitted watching him for Dumbledore. And now Dumbledore was saying he knew Harry's childhood wasn't the happiest? The past four years Harry had convinced himself that Dumbledore had truly believed he was over-exaggerating, after all wizard-kind had extremely strict rules about child abuse.

But Dumbledore knew the entire time…

Harry wasn't even aware he was moving until he felt something snapping under his fist, red-hot blood exploding over his hand as Dumbledore was thrown backwards by the force behind Harry's magically powered punch. "Stay away from me old man" he growled out, "You knew how they treated me. You knew I was being abused and you never did anything!" he yelled furiously. "This is your one warning. Leave, and never come back. Because I won't hesitate to kill you if you do".

Ignoring the dead silence surrounding him, Harry turned and stalked towards the door, the Weasleys and Hermione scattering out of his way as his raging magic danced around his body wildly.

Throwing open the door to Grimmauld Place, knowing that he shouldn't be leaving but that he'd hurt someone if he was forced to stay, Harry stepped out into the rising sunlight and started down the street. The moment he stepped outside Harry's magic was absorbed back into his body to prevent Muggles from seeing it, leaving him feeling hyped up like he had drunk dozens of those 'energy drinks' Dudley likes so much. He still felt like he was going to explode though, like there were thousands of little bugs crawling around beneath his skin. At least this time it felt more like his body would explode, rather than his temper. Him losing his temper never went well for anyone… just ask Voldemort, who from the reports Snape had been given, was still trying to heal the burns Harry had given him for mocking Cedric's death.

Spotting a park tucked between two rows of townhouses, Harry changed his direction and instead headed towards it, absently hoping to find a swing to sit on. It was always so relaxing to sit on a swing, he felt childish doing so but it had always calmed him down when he was younger and trying not to cry about the Dursleys… and dammit… thanks a lot Dumbledore for bringing up _those_ memories.

Letting out a long sigh as he found a swing set, Harry made his way over and sank down into the closest one, not even getting time to relax before he was almost falling off it at the sudden appearance of the man sitting on the swing beside him.

"Oh uh, I'm sorry Sir" Harry apologized cautiously. "I didn't see you there" he explained as he caught the way the man was hunched over himself, hiding his face from a suspicious Harry.

"No problem kid" the man denied slowly, his voice melodic and soothing, which actually made Harry tense. "You're a wizard? S'been a while since I've been directed to one of your lot" he continued as he raised his head to show blood-red eyes.

"Directed?" Harry echoed after he scrambled off the swing and reached instinctively for an absent wand. "Why would someone direct a vampire after me?" he added slowly.

"I'm very good at reading people young one" the vampire explained, making Harry bit back a yelp as he appeared beside him. "I have the innate skill to sense someone's potential. Sometimes it just draws me to people, begging me to bite them".

"Yeah well I have more potential as a human" Harry denied bravely, backing away from the vampire even as he knew that without a wand he had no chance of making it out of here alive unless the vampire wanted it.

"I disagree" the vampire said simply.

"You don't even know my name" Harry pointed out nervously.

The vampire's lip twitched up into a smirk, "So I don't" he agreed before vanishing.

Harry barely had time to think 'that was fast', before someone grabbed his arms and teeth sank into his neck from behind. Jerking himself away and tearing open the bite more, Harry's hand came up to cover the wound uselessly as he spun around to stare at the patiently waiting vampire in shock.

As a burning began to spread through his body from the venom, Harry's legs gave way and he hit the ground, the vampire rolling him over onto his back without hesitation. Feeling his body moving as the vampire nonchalantly lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder, Harry's last thought as his magic surged up to protect him from the pain was simple.

How the hell was he supposed to explain this to Sirius?


	25. Wolf

**I don't own Harry Potter**

* * *

Harry Potter shivered as he pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulders, looking up and down the street cautiously before sprinting across it and into the shadows of the alleyway.

Holding his breath Harry shrank back as much as he could as a police car drove past, music blaring from inside as the cop inside didn't bother to pay much attention to what was down the alleyway, not expecting to find a nine-year old runaway hiding in plain sight.

The moment he could no longer hear the car Harry darted out of the alley and down the street, all of his senses instinctively primed from years sneaking around the Dursley's at night. He knew being caught would end badly for him, sure the Dursley's weren't going to report he was missing, but if he was caught he'd be dragged off to an orphanage and after everything Vernon had told him, staying at the Dursley's was preferable to going to an orphanage.

Moving through the dark streets of London Harry grimaced as a cold breeze blew through his over-sized shirt, the threadbare rag stretched by his fat cousin and given to him so his Aunt and Uncle didn't have to spend a dime on him.

Growling made Harry hesitate before moving faster, knowing the dangers of running away from the savage stray dogs that he was sharing the streets with. He had seen people faster than him being taken down, the dogs ripping into their flesh without hesitation, both human and dog starved to the point of turning on each other. Strangely in those cases the dogs had passed him by for some reason, instead going after other people when he had been standing right there. He wasn't going to test it out just in case, but some sadistic part of him was glad that he hadn't been him who had been attacked.

As the growling got louder Harry sped up, not wanting to give the dog a reason to attack him. As nails clicked on the pavement behind him, Harry felt his heart beating faster, making him sprint forward before he knew what he was doing as he almost flew down the street with an echoing snarl sounding behind him as the hound gave chase.

Turning down an alleyway Harry's heart sank as he caught sight of the chain link fence in the middle of it. He barely had time to think about what he wanted, before the power in his chest - the power that always protected him when he needed it most - surged up inside him and he was being squeezed through a small tube. Harry staggered as he reappeared on the other side of the fence, giving a sigh of relief as he slowed to a stop, once more sending up a prayer to anyone for the strange power that could open doors and make him teleport.

Sometimes Harry entertained the thought that it was magic. After all Uncle Vernon was rather overzealous in his attempts to make Harry think there was no such thing, it was almost a little ironic and it make a strange kind of sense that Harry would have the one thing that Uncle Vernon was afraid of the most.

Growling made him spin around to see a humanoid looking dog standing on the other side of the chain link fence, large patches of fur missing across its body as it snarled at him before tilting his head back for a loud howl. Shaking his head at the idea that there was an honest to god _Werewolf_ in front of him (And if magic truly existed then it wasn't a long stretch to believe in things like Vampires and Werewolves as well), Harry stepped away from the fence and turned to leave.

Letting out an angry snarl, the sick demented dog-thing reached out and started tearing the chain links apart, slowly making a hole in the fence as Harry stared at it in growing horror. Backing away nervously, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight Harry whimpered as the beast made a hole large enough for its body to crawl through as it glared at Harry.

"Uh… nice doggy?" Harry squeaked out as the beast stepped forward again, its growling increasing in volume as it neared him. Harry remembered reading in the school library a while ago that you shouldn't run from a dog (They enjoy the chase apparently) but at the moment Harry was terrified, his life was flashing in front of his eyes and he didn't know what to do.

So when the beast lunged at him, Harry turned and started running as fast as his feet could carry him. Unfortunately for him there was no way a malnourished starving nine year old boy could ever hope to outrun a dog like that, mutated or not. His body was tackled to the ground as teeth sank into his shoulder and tore, both flesh from his bone and a scream from his lips as the beast shook its head.

The beast let go suddenly, letting out a yelp that echoed down the alleyway just as strongly as Harry's scream as it flailed around madly. Leaving Harry to weakly pull himself away from the beast as his vision swam and his arm felt heavy and unresponsive.

"Incarcerous Argentum!" multiple voices cried out and Harry's eyes widened as silver chains sprung into being around the beast which let out pain filled yelps.

"Silencio!" someone shouted and Harry watched in awe as the bea- the werewolves' mouth continued to move even as its voice was cut off mid-yelp.

As the werewolf broke free of the chains, steaming red burns wound around its body still sizzling, it spun around and lunged at a short man in a bright red dress. The man flicked the small stick in his hand and a bolt of red light shot from the tip to hit the werewolf in the chest, causing it to falter slightly before continuing the charge twice as fast as before. More red beams hit the werewolf and Harry stared as it swayed before shaking off whatever magic (For that was all it could be) had been cast on it and renewing its attack.

From one wand erupted a blade of blue energy that made Harry gag as it cut straight through the werewolves' body, both halves slowly sliding apart and to the floor as the magic-users regrouped and cast a lot of spells to clean up the area even as the one who killed the werewolf set the now human body on fire and incinerated the corpse.

"Hey!" a voice shouted making Harry jump and whimper in fear as a man popped up in front of him, "We've got a live one".

Harry scrambled away from the magic-user as he pointed his stick - his wand - at Harry, and fired a white beam of light at him that made him stiffen in fear until it splashed against his chest and made his body glow bright red. Staring down at his arms in shock Harry almost missed the other men joining the first, "Shit he's been bitten" one muttered.

"What gave that away? The fact you can see bones in his shoulder?" the first man spat, making Harry jerk and check to see that the man was actually telling the truth before feeling faint as he realised there was no hope for him to survive an injury like that.

"Poor kid, he barely looks five" the second man said slowly before he raised his wand and the tip glowed the same bright blue as before, a blade of blue energy blasting towards him before Harry's power reacted and a glowing dome appeared around his body, protecting him from the spell that would have killed him.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing?" the first man demanded as a red beam of light knocked the second man's wand from his hands and onto the ground in front of Harry.

"He's been bitten! He was going to bleed out anyway so I thought I'd do him a favour!" the second man exclaimed, earning more than a few curious glances from the rest of the dress-wearing men.

"He was bitten! Being bitten is _not_ a death sentence!" the first man snapped as Harry's shield dropped, leaving him wanting to be anywhere else.

"In one month's time we'll be coming back here to take him down anyway" the second man said dismissively, "We might as well kill him now. At least he would die a wizard instead of as a mindless beast".

"He's barely five" the first man began, being cut off as Harry dove for the dropped wand, his only working hand grasping it tightly before thrusting it towards them, a ripple of power bursting from the tip and knocking the two of them away from him.

As everyone else turned their wands on him Harry clamped his eyes shut and wished to be elsewhere, his body being squeezed through a tight tube before he was tripping over on a dust covered floor, blinking slowly at the obviously abandoned building he was sitting in. Slowly Harry forced himself to his feet, staggering towards the door behind the bar and shutting it behind him as he looked around slowly. Searching the room as he found himself getting weaker and weaker, a burning sensation making its way through his body, until he struck gold by finding a trapdoor hidden in the corner.

Pulling it open and jumping down it, pulling it closed Harry raised a hand and did the first 'freakish' thing he ever learnt to do, summoning a small globe of light into his palm that he threw into the air and left there to hand as he eyed the small cellar desperately.

Deciding it would do Harry stumbled into the middle of the basement room and collapsed onto the floor, everything going black moments later.


	26. Thawing

**I don't own Harry Potter or Frozen.**

* * *

**DZ2's Let it Go **Challenge.

**Plot:** Harry's life had its ups and downs, but in the down areas, he starts to compare his life and future to that of the lyrics of a certain song; now, he seeks to make changes to suit this realisation.

* * *

"**As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. **_**This is a lie**_"**.**

"**It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. "I saw him. I fought him!"**

"**Detention, Mr Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, **_**this is a lie**_**. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners'".**

**Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk, Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.**

"**Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve**. "Harry!" she continued, "Just let it go".

Harry shot her a look as he jerked his arm out of her reach, "Just… just drop it please Harry" she murmured as the class sat quietly.

"Ms Granger is correct Mr Potter" Umbridge said with a smirk tugging at her lips, "Let it go, be a good boy and _just sit down_".

Any other time Harry would have groaned and shook his head. He had returned home from Hogwarts last year, mourning Cedric's death, only to find that the Muggle world had been invaded by a new Disney film. He had heard the song so many times he had actually started having dreams about it, and now here, in the middle of Hogwarts, a teacher was accidentally paraphrasing it.

He kind of wanted to go and hit this 'Elsa' with a _Glacius_, see if she really could handle the cold.

She went on about how bad her life was, yet her life had nothing on Harry's. Sure, they were both scorned as children for having magic. They were both taught to hide who they really were, to 'conceal, don't feel', to behave as the perfect little girl and boy they were expected to be as the magic-less future Queen and the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Mr Potter?" Umbridge's voice called making him snap his mind back to what was happening as he barely managed to fight back his blush as he realized exactly what he'd been thinking about. "Is that all? Can we return to our lesson now?" she sneered at him.

Harry's eyes fell down to the book in front of him, the cheery and colorful cover taunting him as he couldn't help but recall the words to the frustrating song. It was about throwing off one's restraints, living life as you wanted without caring about what other people expected of you. It was something Harry had always wanted to do, to turn his back on first the Dursleys and then Wizarding Britain and to stop being Harry Potter and to just start being Harry.

"Is there a problem Mr Potter?" Umbridge pressed, making him look up to see a familiar look in her brown eyes, his stomach clenching as he recognized the look with a start. She was challenging him, she _wanted_ there to be a problem. She was waiting for him to make a mistake, then she'd swoop in and tear him apart, all to prove that Voldemort wasn't really back. And worse of all… she had the Ministry's approval.

All of a sudden Harry felt something clicking into place…

Voldemort was back, and he was gunning for Harry - Dumbledore was refusing to recognize his life was in danger, and was perfectly willing to use him as bait - The Ministry was finally showing him how corrupt it truly was - Hogwarts would use and abuse him before turning around and expecting him to save them.

The past fourteen years had shown that if he wanted to survive, then he had to fend for himself. Nobody would lift a finger to save him unless they got something out of it, yet they all expected him to throw his life away to save _them_. They would all turn on him at a newspaper article, and then expect him to come running back and forgive them when _he_ proves them wrong.

"No right, no wrong" he murmured to himself, "No rules for me"

"What was that?" Umbridge asked slowly, making his eyes flick back up to hers.

"No" Harry realized slowly, the tension washing out of his body like a plug had been pulled. "There's no problem Professor" he admitted, answering her previous question, a triumphant look growing on Umbridge's face. "There's no problem at all" he assured her as he reached up to tug at his tie, glancing down at it and beginning to untie it lazily. Pulling off his school robes with his other hand, Harry dropped them on the floor and kicked them out of his way.

"Mr- What are you doing Mr Potter?" Umbridge demanded, sounding both confused and frustrated.

"Me?" Harry asked innocently, placing his hand on his chest as if to point to himself, "I'm quitting Professor".

"What are you tal- _put that away Mr Potter_!" Umbridge ordered as Harry pulled his wand from his pocket.

Ignoring her, Harry raised it and pointed it at his robes, setting them on fire with a simple flick of his wand. Feeling something fluttering in his chest as he watched his robes burn, Harry didn't even try to stop the grin that was spreading across his face.

"I hated those things" he exhaled slowly before turning his attention to his school shirt and started unbuttoning that as well, leaving it hanging open and revealing the Muggle shirt he was wearing underneath. "That's better" he murmured, flicking his wand again and turning the white dress shirt black, a second flick turning the Muggle shirt the same color.

"_Harry! _What are you doing?" Hermione hissed as she once more latched onto his arm and tried to tug him back down to his seat, sending the furious Umbridge nervous looks.

Harry just pulled his arm from her grasp, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, a hand rising to mess up his hair. There was no wonder that Elsa didn't want to go back, if she felt the same thrill Harry was feeling right now, then he understands perfectly.

"MR POTTER" Umbridge's voice rang out.

"Professor Umbridge" Harry interrupted calmly, "After some careful consideration, I have decided to take your words to heart. Voldemort _has_ returned" he stressed slowly. "But since you and the Ministry seem to have everything under control, I have no qualms with letting you deal it. I tried to tell you the truth and you ignored me, called me a liar, and tried to have me killed because of it" he explained as he stared into her dark brown eyes.

"I tried, I really did. But since it seems you're intent on ignoring me, I wash my hands of you" he finished slowly, "Voldemort's your problem now".

Stepping out into the aisle between desks, Harry turned his back on the dumbfounded Umbridge and started towards the door, moving with a skip to his step as he felt all the weight on his shoulders just falling away.

Sure, he thought as he left the classroom and it's shocked inhabitants, Voldemort was still out there. But Harry was a fifteen year old boy, a Dark Lord shouldn't be _his_ problem, it shouldn't be up to _him_ to defeat the Dark Lord. Every adult wizard out there had a wand, they knew more magic than he did, _they_ could deal with Voldemort instead.

Harry had more important things to do than pander to them. And if he wanted to survive long enough to actually do those important things then it was time for him to look after just him.

They wouldn't let him go peacefully though. There'd be a riot when people discovered that their perfect little Boy-Who-Live was gone. It was actually kind of exciting, the knowledge that here he stood, in the light of a brand new day for himself.

Well let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered him anyway.

Dammit… now that Merlin-damned song was stuck in his head again...


	27. Sovereign

**I don't own Charmed or Harry Potter.**

* * *

**DZ2's** **Whitelighter Harry** Challenge.

**Plot:** Before the Charmed Ones came into their powers, Leo had a one-night stand with Lily Potter; the result? Our favourite dark-haired hero; and now the time has come for Harry know the truth.

* * *

_**Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch back and lightless – the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.**_

_**For a split second Harry thought he had done magic without meaning to, despite the fact that he'd been resisting as hard as he could – then his reason caught up with his senses – he didn't have the power to turn off the stars. He turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil.**_

_**Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear.**_

"_**W-What are you d-doing? St-stop it!"**_

"_**I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"**_

"_**I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I –"**_

"_**I said shut up!"**_

"I'll- I'll te- tell Dad!" Dudley spluttered out, once more ignoring what Harry was saying.

"Dudley, if you don't shut up and listen to me" Harry began slowly, trying not to snap at his mentally retarded cousin, "Then I will stun your fat ass and leave you as a distraction for a soul-sucking demon while I make a run for it".

Harry flicked his wrist and light flooded the alleyway, pulling a whimper from his cousin and causing him to glare at the obese boy. "And after fifteen years of you constantly abusing me, I have no issues with leaving you to die, especially since you would do the same thing to me without even a flicker of guilt" he added darkly.

Fourteen years of fending for himself had finally come to a head last year. He had been shown that no matter what no one was going to lift a finger to help him. And then when he came out on top, they all switched tracks and pretended they were all on his side in the first place, all of them clamouring for a spot in his good graces like Ronald Weasley after Harry had taken down a dragon.

Admittedly he _was _a _little_ concerned about where his new 'Let em burn' attitude came from. But with the way the Wizarding World was accusing him of being an insane attention-seeker he felt it was certainly appropriate.

He would still fight Voldemort if he had to, but he'd do it on his own terms. For his friends, not for them.

Bringing up his best memories of Hermione and Sirius to battle the growing coldness in his mind, Harry backed away from Dudley and moved to stand in the middle of the alleyway with his wand raised. According to the 'Decree for Something Something Underage Sorcery', Harry could use magic outside of school in any self-defence situation. And since nothing seemed more life threatening to him than Dementors, it meant he had the all-clear to conjure up Prongs to protect him and to tear them apart.

"Stop it you freak!" Dudley shouted, making Harry roll his eyes at his cousin's sheer stupidity. What would Harry have to do to get through Dudley's unnaturally thick skull? Could he get away with claiming that the dozen or so hexes that registered on his wand were the only way to keep Dudley safe? Unfortunately he probably couldn't, not with the way the Prophet and the Ministry were accusing him of being insane, right now he was risking everything with a 'lumos' spell.

"Dudley. If you don't shut the _hell_ up, the Dementors are going to be the least of your worries" Harry snarled darkly, completely serious about his threat to leave his cousin to the Dementors. Unlike the innocents in the Wizarding World, Dudley had done plenty to deserve the Dementor's Kiss.

"I said stop it!" Dudley yelled angrily, Harry's fingers tightening around his wand as his jaw clenched.

"Stupefy".

He snorted as Dudley fell forwards with a squeak, a loud crack filling the air as Harry actually felt a shock wave rolling through the ground. "I warned you" he said bluntly, sneering down at his cousin in disgust, "And now you're not in danger anymore" he added with a shrug, deciding on his excuse for when the Something Something Decree caught up with him.

Shivering as an icy breath whispered down his spine, Harry quickly turned so he could watch both entrances of the alleyway, his wand raised and a happy memory locked in his mind. Standing stiffly, Harry felt the suspense building up in his chest as his breath misted in front of him within the Dementor-less alley. Shuddering as a hoarse, rattling breathing filled the air, Harry bit back the urge to shout out and bring the Dementor's attentions down on himself intentionally.

Swallowing nervously, Harry slowly tilted his head up in time for a Dementor to swoop down on him and knock him off his feet. Slipping from his shock-loosened hand, his now unlit wand clattered across the concrete as a scaled claw grasped his throat, slamming him into the wall roughly as Harry caught a glimpse of a second Dementor over the first one's shoulder.

Gasping for air as the Dementor began to lift him off the ground, Harry kicked out at it, a snarl and a loud snapping sound filling the air as he felt his foot going straight through bone, getting lodged in the Dementor's ribcage. Feeling a sense of panic rolled through him as the Dementor's rattling inhale began, Harry lashed out and slammed his fist into the side of the Dementor's head, watching as it's skull jerked around to an angle that would mean death for a Human.

Before he could react the Dementor was lunging forward again, it's gaping mouth locking onto Harry's forehead, causing his eyes to snap open in shock and confusion. Unsure if he was imagining the feeling or not, Harry tried to push down the sickening feeling of a tug-of-war happening in his skull, and instead reaching uselessly for his wand as he mentally begged for his magic to save him.

The Dementor suddenly let out an unearthly screech and dove away from him, forcing a scream of his own from Harry's lips as his ankle was twisted sharply where it was stuck in the Dementor's twist. Landing harshly on his wrist and feeling a second bone breaking, Harry's eyes were drawn to the swirl of golden orbs of light that had materialized out of nowhere and had started circling him.

As he watched, the golden orbs centered in on his hand and narrowed out into a long stick before vanishing and dropping a long gold and silver sword into his palm. Light suddenly exploded through the dark alleyway, a rush of golden energy surging up through his arm and rolling through his body, his wrist and ankle burning for a split second before the energy moved on and left him feeling strong enough to fight the Dementor's bare-handed.

Scrambling to his feet as he used both hands to grip the unnaturally light sword, almost sobbing at the feeling of the power humming through his veins as he stared down at the glowing steel. Slowly glancing up at the Dementor, he faltered when he saw its 'eyes' were locked on the sword as it held back from attacking him again, the smell of fear almost tangible. As his eyes drifted past the first Dementor to the second, his stomach clenched as he realised it was bending over Dudley with its mouth hovering over his cousin's.

Remembering his promise to just turn and walk away, Harry's jaw clenched as he felt his 'people saving thing' rising up in his chest, a voice that sounded strangely like Hermione scolding him for even considering the idea.

Biting back a growl, Harry raised the sword and stepped forward, watching as the Dementor almost fell over itself to get away from the steel. Resisting the urge to laugh at the moment that would have been funny any other time, Harry just darted forward, the Dementor shrieking as it shot up into the air and gave him a clear run at the second one. The Dementor's head snapped up and it seemed to freeze in fear just long enough for Harry to swing the glowing sword wildly, the blade cutting through the Dementor's cloak and chest like they were made of paper.

Seconds later the Dementor was exploding in a mass of black flames, sending Harry flying into the wall of the alleyway with enough force to send the sword clattering from his hand. Hitting the ground as his vision swam, he looked up to see a black 'chunk' of light hovering there for a second before it too exploded, this time a frantic wave of small silver orbs surging out from inside it and going spiralling through the night.

Distracted by the silver ball of light that shot back down Dudley's throat, Harry took a couple of seconds to realise that the growing sense of doom he could feel in his throat was a Dementor's aura, recognising too late that without the sword in his hand he wasn't protected anymore.

Slowly forcing himself up onto his hands and knees, Harry's head rose and his eyes fell upon the shimmering sword lying mere feet away from him, the remaining Dementor floating almost smugly between him and it. Trying and failing to call up some happy memories, watching instead how every memory he focused on ended horribly, Harry felt a strong scaled hand latching onto his jaw. He barely felt himself being picked up as intense flashbacks rolled through his mind, from his accidental killing of Quirrell to Cedric's death, shattering his resistance as the Dementor lowered its face to Harry's.

Something pulled at his mind and his eyes rolled to the side, past the hulking black blur to the one thing he could see perfectly. As a rattling inhale echoed through his ears Harry slowly reached out, his mind filled with the desperate urge to just _touch_ the sword one more time, a tingling feeling prickling at his fingertips as the golden pommel seemed to spark with light.

Out of nowhere Harry felt something inside him 'clicking' as the hilt of the sword flashed with light, causing his hand to rise instinctively and cover the Dementor's mouth. Slowly cold fury began to bubble up in his chest, an adrenaline rush like he had never felt before beginning to roll through his body like the first time he had held the sword in his hand. Tapping into the rush, his hands began glowing softly, making the Dementor pause for a second.

The second was all Harry needed as the glow erupted from his palms, a giant wave of golden energy slamming straight into the Dementor was that blasted away from him and vaporised by the sheer power of the energy. Hitting the ground himself, Harry didn't realise he moving until power rolled through his body as his hand tightened around the sword's hilt.

Laying there in the alleyway, basking in the feeling the sword was generating in him, Harry almost missed the clanking sound that filled the air. As his brain connected it with the sound of someone approaching he sprang to his feet and shot towards Dudley, dropping to his knees and laying on hand on his cousin's chest as he instinctively ordered the sword to take him somewhere else.

Golden light filled his vision as warmth spread through his body, catching a glimpse of someone rounding the corner of the alleyway as he and Dudley vanished from it. Grunting as he hit the ground, Harry looked around his cousin's bedroom, blinking over at his cousin who was lying on his bed.

He had been kissed… Dudley had been kissed, but when he killed the Dementor a silver orb went back into Dudley's body… did that mean he had his soul back? Did that mean that the other souls returned to their bodies as well? What about the souls that didn't have bodies to go back to? Did they move on or did they just linger around like ghosts until they're exorcised?

"Dudders? Is that you?" Petunia's voice called making Harry panic again, the sword reacting straight away and gold-orb-teleporting him out of his cousin's room and into his own. As he heard his aunt opening the door to Dudley's bedroom, Harry moved over to his own bed and slipped the sword under it, knowing his aunt would go crazy if she saw him standing there with a glowing sword.

Hands twitching with the urge to pick up the sword again, Harry threw himself down as his aunt's footsteps came back down the hall and his door was thrown open. "Dudley's sleeping so keep it down" Petunia sneered at him coldly making him nod obediently, "Vernon and I will be ordering out tonight so you can stay up here tonight" she continued, faltering before eyeing him cautiously "And fix your shirt Freak" she added closing the door again and stalking off.

Rolling his eyes at his aunt's typical behavior, Harry glanced down at his chest to find his shirt covered in black soot, probably from the Dementor exploding. Snorting he tugged the shirt off and threw it to the side, reaching under the bed and pulling out the sword, exhaling happily as he felt it humming through his body again.

Yawning as the sword pulsed with light, Harry rolled onto his side and held the sword close to him, somehow confident that it wouldn't injure him as he wrapped one hand around the hilt and the other around his pillow as his eyes drifted closed and the sword hummed him to sleep.

* * *

In an office in northern Scotland, several silver ornaments and knickknacks went crazy, screeching and spinning as the magical signature they were attuned to vanished.

The phoenix on the other side of the office eyed the tools hesitantly, one half of him wanting to stay out of things that didn't involve him while the other half of him wanted to interfere to help out his favourite non-AlbusDumbledore Human.

In the end Fawkes just glided across the room and dipped his beak into his Human's grape bowl, deciding that HarryPotter could deal with this problem. He had foreseen after all, that a certain trio of powerful Witches would be there to guide HarryPotter, and that he would be better cared for with them than with the rather manipulative AlbusDumbledore.

He could visit though, the Charmed Ones would be ecstatic to have some Phoenix tears for their stockpile and HarryPotter was always good for some fun conversation.

Maybe they'd have green grapes too… that'd really make his day.


	28. The Phoenix

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed.**

* * *

**DZ2's Abandoned Harry **Challenge.

**Plot:** Abandoned by his family for his sibling, Harry is taken away to be raised somewhere free from a life of Hogwarts and manipulations, but, as it always must, eventually his demons catch up with him.

* * *

"Mike! I'm coming in!"

Micheal Potter; Boy-Who-Lived and Heir to the Most Noble House of Potter, bit back a groan at the voice calling through the door, not wanting to dislodge the gentle fingers combing through his hair just to talk to _him_.

"Mike. The Minister has arrived and is- oh" his father's voice trailed off awkwardly. "I wasn't aware you had a friend over" James pointed out accusingly as Michael opened his eyes to stare at his father warningly..

"It's probably the Wrackspurts, Mr Potter" the dreamy voice responsible for the _amazing_ scalp massage responded innocently. "The mansion is rather infested with them. I suspect a hive".

"Wra- of course Ms Lovegood, I'll get right on that after I talk to my son" James ground out as Micheal forced a polite smile onto his face. "Alone" he pressed when neither of them moved, the annoyance dripping from his voice.

"I trust my manager with this. You can speak freely around her" Michael countered simply, hiding the smirk that his father's visible anger brought about.

"The Minister of Magic is here to see you" James forced out, disgust clear on his face. "He's waiting for you in the main sitting room".

Michael nodded curtly, "Please tell him I'll be down in a moment. I wish to freshen up first" he replied politely.

"Actually. I'm more interested in finding out _why_ Cornelius cited the reason for his visit as having more information in your search for Harrison" James corrected coldly, the look in his eyes showing Micheal exactly what he thought about the idea. "I wasn't aware you were even searching for him after all".

"It must have slipped my mind Father" Michael lied slowly as he sat up, hearing Luna's hand falling to her lap as he gracefully climbed off the bed and stretched. "But of course you can understand my desire to meet the brother you so kindly abandoned years ago?" he asked innocently, catching his father's flinch from the corner of his eye.

"Of course" James echoed coldly, turning and stalking out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Well that went well" Michael muttered under his breath, grabbing his wand and casting several cleaning spells on himself to at least make it look like he had freshened up. "Luna?" he asked slowly, turning to face his blonde girlfriend.

"I'm not letting you go to America alone" Luna denied without prompting, "There might be Nargles there".

Smirking slightly, Michael pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. "America?" he asked slowly as Luna skipped over to his wardrobe and started going through it.

"California" Luna confirmed, tilting her head as she paused, "I cannot See much else. Someone powerful is blocking me".

That made Michael pause, halfway through the wand movements to transfigure his singlet into a proper shirt, causing it to disintegrate as he turned to stare at Luna in shock. His girlfriend was one of the strongest Seers since Morgana Le Fay herself (A matter of much pride for Michael), and the idea that someone could block her Sight was rather nerve-racking for the raven-haired Wizard.

Something soft hit him in the face and Micheal quickly caught the black shirt before it hit the ground, blinking down at it then glancing up at Luna in confusion. "I like that shirt more" his girlfriend said in way of explanation, making him shrug before sliding it on.

"What… what if he doesn't like me?" he asked slowly, causing Luna to pause as Michael' stomach tied itself into a painful knot. "I mean I'm the reason he was sent away, because James and Lily didn't want to have to raise a bastard squib as well as the Boy-Who-Lived" he reminded her, "What if he blames me for it?"

Michael had only been three went Harry had been taken, sent away for not only being a squib but also for being James' bastard son born of a drunken one night stand. His parents had promised his younger self that Harry would return when he was older, that he was living as a Muggle with his maternal Aunt outside London.

But he wasn't.

A thirteen year old Michael had used his Muggleborn friend, Hermione Granger, to find out where his Aunt lived. He had then gone there with Hermione, Luna, and Neville, hoping to be able to meet Harry just one time, long enough to refresh his fading memories of his older half-brother. He remembered Harry being overprotective, he remembered him looking like their father, but with brilliant green eyes. (He also remembered how much Lily had hated Harry's eyes, knowing that he wasn't her son yet still looked like he was)

But when they got there, Petunia slammed the door in their faces the moment he had given his name. It was only when he opened the door magically (Being the Boy-Who-Lived meant he could use magic freely, one of the only good things about the title), that Petunia confessed that the 'Freak's' biological mother had shown up to claim him the day after he had been dumped on her doorstep.

He had gone home, and using a surprising show of intelligence, innocently asked his parents if he could meet Harry. But they lied… they told him they have visited before Micheal' birthday and Harry had claimed he wanted nothing to do with them.

When he confronted them on their lie, a lot of secrets started coming out. That was the day that Michael had started hating his parents.

Jumping as a hand slipped into his own, Michael smiled uncertainly down at the concerned looking Luna. "Just thinking" he apologized softly, squeezing the blonde's hand and beginning to lead her from his wing of the mansion and down to the sitting room where the Minister, and no doubt his parents, would be waiting for him.

And waiting they were. Lily had a dark look on her face and a disapproving one in her eyes that she turned on him the moment he entered the room, James refusing to look at him with a scowl etched onto his face. "Ah Cornelius!" Michael greeted faux-happily, more than willing to use his celebrity status and his people skills to get what he wanted from the cowardly and abysmal Minister.

"Mike! It's good to see you!" Cornelius replied quickly, looking flustered as he glanced over at Michael' parents. "Take a seat, I have good news for you".

Sending the Minister the same smile he had sent his father earlier, Micheal led Luna over to the empty loveseat and sat, the picture of patience as his insides twisted and writhed. "We found young Harry" Cornelius declared, not bothering to lead into as he beamed and looked between the four of them expectantly.

"Where?" Michael exhaled, unable to stop himself from fidgeting nervously.

"San Francisco" Cornelius admitted, "A small town in America. I have his address here, and I took the liberty of arranging for a portkey to America" he continued with a smug tone of voice.

"And that's why I'm endorsing you as Minister" Michael praised simply, taking the folded piece of parchment from the beaming man. "Now, if you'll excuse me Minister, I have a portkey to catch".

* * *

"Here we are", the guide the American Ministry had assigned them declared, pulling the car over to the pavement. "1329 Prescott Street" the beautiful woman continued, "Oh uh, it's that one" she corrected when she noticed Michael studying the house they had stopped in front of. "There's nowhere to park" she explained with a shrug.

Nodding in understanding, Michael slowly climbed out of the car and instantly had a Luna clinging to his arm as she copied him. "I hate cars" she hissed as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Now. There are some quick rules I need to go over" the guide began as they stood on the pavement. "The first, most important one being that all members of the Halliwell Coven and all properties owned by them are protected by the American Society of Magic's 'Albion Decree'" she explained. "To paraphrase, it means that if you raise your wands against a member of the Halliwell Coven, then they can _legally_ respond in _any_ way they consider appropriate. They could permanently bind your magic and as long as they have prove you started it they'd get away with it" she finished with the ghost of a smirk on her face.

"I understand" Michael agreed instantly, fully willing to hand over his wand if he had to. "Does this mean that Harry's not a squib then?" he asked slowly, knowing that he wouldn't have been warned if his brother wasn't a member of the Coven.

"The second rule" the woman said, ignoring his question, "Is that what the British Ministry declares as Dark isn't classed as such in America. Meaning Wiccans, Gypsies, Werewolves are all equal members of our magical and mortal society" she said simply.

"So Harry's something the British call Dark then?" Michael realised, the woman merely raising her eyebrow at him in response before her eyes flicked to something behind him with a confused look.

Half-turning, a groan slipped past Michael's lips as he recognised the five people that climbed out of the black SUV like the one that he and Luna had ridden in. "I take it you know them?" the guide asked curiously, "Because I was only made aware of just the one person".

"I know them" Michael admitted coldly as the five of them crossed the street to join them. "What are you doing here Father? Mother?" he demanded, "And what is _he_ doing here as well, he has no business being here" he added as he glared at his Headmaster.

Michael had lost all faith in the man when he discovered it was by his suggestion that his parents got rid of Harry. Add to that the way he loudly supported equality and creature rights, yet continuously insured the opposite. The way he preached second chances for everybody but those who deserved them. And the way that he treated the Muggleborn at Hogwarts, and Michael could barely stand being in the same room as the man.

"Michael Sirius Potter! You will show the Headmaster some respect!" Lily scolded instantly. "And you didn't think we were going to let you just run off to America did you?"

"I had hoped" Michael deadpanned, "Now if you don't mind, Luna and I have an appointment. A _private_ appointment".

"We're coming" his Godfather, Sirius corrected instantly, dragging a sheepish Remus forward. "I never got to even say goodbye. I'm not letting this slip past me".

"I don't think you have a say in this Mike" James ordered, "Harry's my son too and we _will_ be seeing him".

Fighting off the urge to sneer at the man, Michael instead turned his back on him and returned his attention to the guide. "I'm formally protesting this, even if I don't get a say" he informed the woman seriously, absently hoping that she'd 'forget' to give them the same warnings as she gave him.

The woman just nodded, the scowl in her eyes obvious as she turned and started leading them down the pavement. "It's okay" Luna whispered in his ear, "You're allowed to be nervous".

Michael forced a smile onto his face as he glanced down at his girlfriend. "My stomach feels like it's full of rocks" he admitted weakly, glancing over at her pale Godfather who was walking even with her, "At least I look better than Sirius though" he added earning a half-hearted glare from the trembling man.

"Yes this was a good idea" Luna assured him as Michael opened his mouth to ask that exact question. "Even if he kicks everyone out, he'll still contact you" the blonde promised as he ran a hand through his short black hair.

As they walked down the street, Michael found himself faltering as he realised their destination was the house that seemed to be throwing a party. Maybe it would be best for him to come back another day? He didn't want to crash a celebration with bad news. It was hard enough for him to be finally meeting Harry, he didn't want to think about how he would feel if eight complete strangers crashed a party to interrogate him.

"Excuse me Ma'am?" Remus asked slowly as they stopped in front of the beautiful manor, "Is today a bad day? I'm sure we could always come back another day".

The guide just shook her head with a smirk, "You're here to find your 'long lost son' right?" she asked as she sneered in James and Lily's direction. "I think it's only fitting that you'd show up today of all days" she declared as she turned away and strode up the stairs, leaving them nothing to do but follow her.

"What- what day is it?" a nervous Michael whispered to Luna, the sad-looking blonde hanging off him arm without her usual skipping step.

"It's Harry's birthday".


	29. Reset

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed.**

* * *

**DZ2's Who am I **Challenge.

**Plot:** During one of his many death-defying adventures, Harry suffers an accident and, when he awakens he finds he cannot remember who he is! How will our favourite black-haired hero react when forced to act purely on instinct?

* * *

_It should become obvious while reading this preview, that I have absolutely NO idea about how amnesiacs act. This is why I've come up with a reason you'll read about soon as to why Harry acts as he does. Please keep this in mind while reading._

* * *

Deep within the dark depths of the Black Lake, located in the center of the Merman village, stood four tall pillars.

Each pillar had a different teenager tied to them with kelp, their hair and robes floating freely as they hung in a magically suspended sleep. Merman swum patrol around the village and the pillars, keeping an eye on their surroundings for both predators and for the Champions who were set to rescue their 'hostages'.

A whistle went through the mermen ranks as a red-clothed Champion swam out of the kelp forest bordering the village, all of them watching curiously as the strange part-human boy thrashed flippered feet awkwardly in an attempt to move faster.

Quickly untying the red-haired boy from the pillar, one Harry Potter hesitated to watch another yellow-clothed Champion quickly rescue the black-haired girl. Grimacing as he looked back to the two hostages in front of him, Harry pulled his wand out and aimed it at the kelp tying his best friend to the pillar, a trident appearing at his throat before he could blink.

"Only one" a merman guard hissed at him, scattering seconds later and leaving Harry floating there dumbly, his instincts screaming at him to turn around. Faster than he could blink, the shark surged forward, its sharp teeth sinking into his chest.

Letting out a startled scream as the shark instantly started thrashing its head about to tear at his flesh, Harry's wand slipped from his hands and he instead raised them to stab his thumbs into the half-human half-shark's eyes. Beginning to sink as blood turned the water around him red, Harry's eyes followed the shark - followed the transfigured Viktor Krum - as he spun around and charged at him again.

'_Finite Incantatem_' Harry shouted, thrusting his hand at Krum hopefully and watching as his hand glowed for a second before the half-shark did as well. While Krum thrashed about, turning fully human once more, Harry's hands moved weakly to his chest and he pulled aside the shreds of his shirt to stare down at the visible bone in growing horror.

Mermen appeared between them, Harry hearing them snarling something about 'breaking the rules', his mind going foggy as he absently realised how beautiful the red water around him was. Sinking down, his feet no longer moving to keep him up, Harry's last thought before he passed out was 'I hope someone at least rescues Hermione'.

* * *

Groaning deep in his chest, his eyes flickered open, blinked up at the white ceiling above his head.

Frowning as he glanced around the unfamiliar blurry room, he angled his elbows beneath him and used them to push himself up into a sitting position, gingerly raising a hand to rub his burning chest.

Flinching away from the pain that his touch caused, Boy squinted through the brightness of the unfamiliar white room, his hand absently rising to adjust the frames that weren't on his face. Faltering as he almost poked his own eye out, Boy wondered why exactly he could have sworn that he was supposed to have something on his face to help him see.

Nervously looking around the…. the infirmary… Boy slipped out of the soft bed he was in and reached automatically for the bedside table, his fingers brushing across empty wood making him pause and glance down at his hand in confusion.

What was he doing here? And more importantly, where was here?

Stiffening as a wave of panic rolled through him, Boy leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He didn't know where he was, meaning one of the first things he had to do was find out. He didn't know why he was here, he had to figure that out as well. He couldn't be seen either, if years of 'Harry Hunting' had taught him anything then it was to not get caug-

Who was Harry?

Was he Harry? It felt right, like a puzzle piece falling into place. What was his name again? _Was_ it Harry? Harry was definitely a nicer name than 'Boy' or 'Freak'.

It didn't matter. Harry, Freak, or Boy. He needed to get out, he trusted his instincts and they were screaming at him to run.

Turning to leave, Harry froze as the door at the other end of the infirmary opened and a brown-haired girl stepped out with her nose in a book. "-nk you Madam Pomfrey" she was saying as Harry's heart started racing and he wished almost fruitlessly that she wouldn't see him standing there. "I should be able to teach Harry some of these, it'll stop him from being so near death every time he comes vis- HARRY!" the teenager girl shrieked as she looked up at him, standing in the middle of the room dumbly.

"MADAM POMFREY! HARRY'S GONE!" the girl shrieked as she dropped the book and shot across the room faster than Harry would have thought possible, an older motherly looking nun-woman appearing in the doorway seconds later.

As both women gathered around his bed, Harry looked down at his body in confusion, faltering as he realised he couldn't see it anymore. Quickly patting himself down, Harry realised he was merely invisible, the older woman rattling off a set of instructions to the younger one who ignored her and pulled a piece of paper from her pocket instead.

"Miss Granger? What are you doing? We need to find Mr Potter before he makes his injuries worse" the older woman snapped.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" 'Miss Granger' replied, staring down at the now-unfolded paper in her hands, "I am finding him Madam Pomfrey, he's… standing right there" she exhaled as her head snapped up to stare right at Harry. "_Accio_ invisibility cloak" she called out, raising the stick in her hand to point it in Harry's direction, a frown flickering across her face when nothing happen.

"You have the Map?" 'Madam Pomfrey' blurted, "No wonder you're constantly getting in trouble".

"I don't understand" Granger whispered as she strode forward, Harry backing away instantly, "It says he's right there".

"_Homenum revelio_" Pomfrey said simply, a wave of _something _ rolling across Harry's body and making him glance down at his hand to see a light purple aura now surrounding his body. "Hello Mr Potter, if you would be so kind as to sit your ass back down on your bed, so I can make sure you haven't killed yourself in the five minutes I was away" she greeted bluntly, her tone of voice sounding exasperated and familiar like they had done this multiple times before.

"Harry?" Granger asked curiously, edging forward to poke at his arm, causing him to flinch away from her. "Are you disillusioned? We haven't started learning that spell yet and even if you had then how did you manage to get it without the customary outline?" she asked in a single breath, hand latching onto his elbow and forcing a yelp of surprise from his lips as she dragged him over to the bed. "And how did you cast it without a wand? The mermen haven't found your wand yet and I know that I brought mine with me" she continued.

As Granger tried to pull her hand away, Harry found himself grabbing her hand, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her closer. He didn't know who she was, but she felt like home, he could feel his deep-set instinct to flee calming down around her as if he knew she would keep him safe. "Harry? Are you okay?" Granger asked nervously as Pomfrey rounded the bed to flick her stick in his direction, "You're okay now. The mermen interrupted the Task to bring you up, you almost died but Madam Pomfrey managed to stabilize you".

"Mr Potter, please drop your invisibility" Pomfrey requested, making Harry's eyes flick to her face for a moment before returning to study Granger's intently.

He knew her.

"Who are you?"

Harry flinched automatically, a shrill 'Don't' ask questions' echoing through his mind, a flash of pain following it instantly. "Who are you?" he repeated, ignoring the woman's voice shrieking at him to stop talking and get back to work.

Granger and Pomfrey exchanged startled looks, the older woman muttering under her breath as she waved her stick through the air again. "Harry?" Granger asked hesitantly, "What do you mean? You know who I am" she explained, a hint of fear audible in her voice.

"Mr Potter, lower your invisibility _now_" Pomfrey snapped, "None of my scans are picking anything up from you".

"Harry. Please" Granger whispered, a tingle rolling down his body as he stared at her, causing her to sight in relief and launch herself forward. Sitting stiffly with Granger's arms around his neck, Harry's body began to relax against his will, his arms rising to hold Granger even though he wanted nothing more than to push her away and run. "Oh Harry I was so scared" Granger blurted as she pulled back slightly, "When the mermen brought me up to the surface the first thing I saw was you, you looked like you had been torn apart by something".

_**\- the shark surged forward, its sharp teeth sinking into his chest -**_

"Shark" he exhaled, hand rising to rub his head as it throbbed painfully. "A shark bit me".

"Viktor Krum attacked you" Granger corrected as a muttering Pomfrey pulled her away and stepped between them, raising her stick to point it at Harry again. "Harry… give her back her wand" she said slowly, making Harry blink in confusion as he realised he had moved without thinking, the nurse's stick in his hand and pointing at her throat.

"It's not a total loss" Pomfrey muttered slowly as she plucked her stick - her wand- from his grasp. "He's still got basic instinct and knowledge. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter?" he replied falteringly, easily piecing together 'Harry' and 'Mr Potter'.

"Right. And what's my name?" Pomfrey asked as she continued waving her wand at his chest.

"Madame Pomfrey" he answered.

"So he remembers things then?" Granger asked nervously.

"I don't think so" Pomfrey murmured, "What's Miss Granger's first name?"

Harry just stared at her in response, shrugging weakly as Granger let out a whimper. "You haven't told me yet" he mumbled awkwardly, eyeing her wand cautiously in case he had to defend himself again.

"He knows his name because we've said it" Pomfrey explained, raising her wand to mutter something, a scowl gracing her face a second later as Harry noticed a white glow around his head. "Mr Potter is suffering from memory loss" she declared angrily.

Memory loss? He doesn't _feel_ like he's suffering from memory loss.

Glancing over at Granger instinctively, Harry caught the fearful look on her face and reached out, linking their hands together. Forcing an uncomfortable smile onto his face as Granger started trembling, Harry turned back to Pomfrey who had backed away and raised her wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_" the woman called, Harry's eyes widening as a glowing silver shapeless blur erupted from the tip of her wand. "Summon the Hogwarts Heads of Houses" Pomfrey ordered as her wand shook, "Tell them Hogwarts is entering lockdown. _Expecto Patronum_" she cast, the blur bobbing for a moment before turning and shooting up through the ceiling.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Granger asked slowly, Harry flinching as he recognised the sound of tears in her voice. "What's happening?"

"I, Madam Poppy Pomfrey" Pomfrey began, ignoring Granger's question as she raised her wand to point it at the ceiling, "Chief Medi-Witch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hereby declare a magical emergency and lockdown".

Harry jolted, almost falling off the bed as white magic burst into life around them all, forming shimmering walls in front of the windows and the door which slammed shut. "Madam Pomfrey?" Granger repeated, her hand tightening around Harry's.

"Mr Potter has been cursed with an ancient memory loss spell" Pomfrey confessed slowly, "One that has been illegal for several centuries due to the unstoppable side effects".

"Side effects?" Harry echoed hesitantly.

"It's more commonly called the 'Reset Curse'" Pomfrey explained softly, "Harry's mind and magic have been wiped clean. He has a new personality, a new identity".

She sighed sadly and her lip twitched up in an useless effort to smile comfortingly at them. "Harry Potter is dead".


	30. Dominion

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**DZ2's Blood and Magic **Challenge.

**Plot:** Summer holidays are meant to be a time away from trouble, but not when your name is Harry James Potter. Bitten and turned into a vampire, now our hero seeks his survival.

* * *

"Eleven. That's when I get off".

A smile slowly grew across Harry's face as the waitress interrupted him with a soft blush. "You can tell me all about that tosser, Harry Potter" she continued with a small shrug as his own cheeks heated up in a blush. "I'm Elara, by the way" she introduced, "See you in ten".

Both of their cheeks bright red, Elara vanished back into the kitchen of Treats Cafe as Harry turned back to face his table. Taking a deep breath as he quickly folded up the Daily Prophet, (Pretending that he hadn't heard Elara's comment about moving pictures), Harry tapped the blanking rune in the corner of the front page and watched as the ink vanished from the entire newspaper.

Throwing the now useless newspaper in the trashcan in the corner, Harry turned back to his table and froze at the sight of the lights flickering across the tracks. Stomach clenching at the obvious sign of magic, Harry shot a glance towards the cafe's kitchens as he compared his options.

He could either go investigate the source of the magic over there and miss his potential date with Elara, or he could go hide in the bathroom and actually have some fun away from magic.

The sound of the bathroom door shutting in his face gave him his answer, as he blinked in shock at his body's ability to dart across the café and take refuge before he realised he was even moving. Glancing down at his watch with a grimace, Harry moved over to the sink and washed his hands, splashing his face and trying unsuccessfully to tame his hair.

"I hope you're not a vain one" Elara's voice pointed out, an amused giggle filling the air as he jumped and almost tripped over his own feet. "I saw you make a runner. You're not feeling off are you?" she asked slowly.

"No, I'm fine" Harry blurted awkwardly, his face heating up in embarrassment, "I just realised I'm a bit of a mess. Wanted to freshen up" he lied in explanation.

Elara just smiled and nodded slowly, "And it's nothing to do with the old man in a dress I saw standing outside?" she asked knowingly making him flush again.

"Added bonus" Harry mumbled sheepishly as Elara grinned at him. "Let's just say I know him, I don't like him, and leave it at that".

Elara simply shrugged at him, glancing over her shoulder back into the café "So I'm going to slip away before I get yelled at for perving on the men's bathroom" she decided, "But if you want I can knock on the door to let you know when the dress man is gone?" she offered innocently.

Smiling at her thankfully, Harry just nodded, watching as Elara closed the door and left him alone once more. Frowning slightly as he turned back to the mirror, Harry scowled at his reflection when he realised his hair was now even messier than it was before. Sighing as he just smoothed his mane down, he couldn't help but think that Sirius would be ecstatic to discover he had a date. Swallowing heavily to force away the flare of pain rolling through his stomach, Harry just stared up at his reflection, flinching as he heard his Godfather's barking laugh echo through his mind.

After patting himself down to make sure his wand was properly hidden yet still within easy reach, Harry chewed on a couple of mints to clear his breath before leaning against the sink and closing his eyes. Please let the wizards in the area clear out, he didn't want to have to deal with anything magical this Summer. His friends had once more promised to write and then done the exact opposite, he had just lost his Godfather after all and he would like to be comforted. The Dursleys, upon finding out that Sirius was dead, had quickly returned to their abusive ways. The only reason Harry wasn't afraid of Elara discovering the multitude of bruises, was because all of Harry's magic was currently directed towards healing his injuries, while keeping them hidden from everyone else as well as him.

He'd like one - just one - night of just being a normal teenager before the magical world sucked him back in like the unforgiving leeches they were.

He didn't have to wait long before there was a knocking on the door and it swung open to reveal Elara standing there with a shy smile on her face. "Closing time. Shall we go?" she asked carefully, making Harry smile nervously back at her before striding over to offer her his arm, "Ooh, a gentleman. I like it".

Grinning back at her, Harry escorted Elara out the door and then faltered. "So where are we going?" he asked hesitantly, "We never got this far ahead in the planning stage" he pointed out as he blushed.

Elara paused for a moment, lost in thought before she shrugged. "I know a pizza place that's open twenty-four seven?" she suggested sheepishly, "It's not the best first date, but I'm starving" she explained apologetically.

Shaking his head, Harry started to lead her towards the stairs up to the street. "It sounds great to me" he assured her awkwardly, not too sure of dating protocol when his first ever date with Cho Chang had ended so miserably.

"It's to the right of the hub, two blocks down" Elara directed as they walked. "But anyway, tell me about this Harry Potter fellow" she pressed.

"He's nobody special" Harry murmured, wishing that were true. "He goes to a boarding school up in Scotland. Has mediocre grades. His best friends are Ron and Hermione, Ron's a chess addict and Hermione eats books for breakfast" he joked, hiding his sigh of relief when Elara giggled.

"And what does Harry think of Hogwarts?" Elara asked curiously, "Does he like it there?"

"It's my home" Harry confessed softly, "I'd never leave if I could". As Elara grinned at him, Harry found his own smile fading as a thought flickered across his mind. "I never said I went to Hogwarts" he pointed slowly, Elara's grin turning into a smirk as she batted her eyelashes at him, brown eyes swirling into a blood-red that made his stomach clench tightly.

Reacting instantly, Harry shoved Elara away and jumped back, scrabbling for his wand and shoving his hand into an empty pocket. "Looking for this?" she asked innocently, twirling his wand around her fingers. "Oh Christopher!" she called out with a grin, "I got you a gift!"

"Oh?" a male voice asked in his ear, making Harry jerk to the side to see a short blonde vampire standing where he had been. "I _do_ love presents" the vampire murmured as he vanished in a blur, a hand suddenly combing through Harry's hair from behind him, "Such a pretty one too".

Quickly backing away from the vampires, his eyes flicking to his wand still held in Elara's hand, Harry stiffened as he backed straight into another hard chest. "He's a bit scrawny" a third voice pouted as arms wrapped around his chest to hold him still, "He'll hardly feed all of us".

"He won't" Elara confessed simply, as a _fourth_ vampire stepped around into Harry's line of sight. "But we all know Christopher has a weakness for magical blood. So I was thinking that since Treats is going out of business soon anyway, that we could give it a real reason to while he eats gourmet. There were only four people in the café when we left" she continued, "Mr and Mrs Martin, a businessmen and the cook. And I know where the security system is so I can wipe all traces of us from the area".

"Well he _does_ smell like a wet dream come true" Christopher murmured as he appeared in front of Harry with another blur, a hand cupping Harry's cheek as the tip of a white fang peeked out from behind the vampire's upper lip. "So I guess that long as you clean up behind you, I have no problem with us… _splurging_… once or twice a year" he allowed slowly as he half-turned and held his hand out.

The moment his wand came within arm's reach, Elara handing it over to Christopher who inspected it curiously, Harry's mind started racing and planning. He couldn't take on four vampires at the same time. Vampires were hard enough to fight without them being magical vampires, as these four clearly were. Harry doubted he could take _one _of them down before the other three drained him dry. And even if he poured as much magic into a fire spell as he could, he'd probably only manage to get two of them before they tore his head off.

"Best boss, _ever_" Elara sung happily, skipping over to press a kiss to Christopher's cheek. "I promise to bring you back some snacks. We might as well raid the café, make it look like a robbery gone wrong you know?"

"Probably for the best" Christopher agreed, turning again to face Elara, giving Harry the chance he needed to snatch his wand from the vampire's hand.

"INCINDIO!" he yelled, hoping to get both Christopher and Elara with one stream as he thrust his wand towards the two of them.

"How cute" Christopher drawled dryly as Harry blinked down at the pen he was holding in confusion, eyes rising to the wand the vampire was tapping against his nose with an amused smirk. "You three get moving" he ordered, not moving his eyes from Harry's, "I want us gone before the next train comes by".

Oh Merlin… he was going to die here. He couldn't fight off one normal vampire without a wand let alone four magical ones. He was going to be drained dry, left a bloodless husk in some side alley somewhere so no one found his body.

"Actually you're going to be left in some side alley somewhere unconscious and dizzy" Christopher corrected slowly, "As lovely as you wizards taste, you're not worth the effort to kill. The Ministry would be all over my arse if there was any hint that a vampire killed you".

Harry froze again as the arms around his chest vanished and the three other vampires let out echoing laughter and whoops, springing around like overactive children as they made their way back towards the café. "And yes" Christopher added as Harry realised something, "I _was_ just reading your mind, it's rather easy to actually, like your mind has been left open just for me" he purred.

Before he could stop himself, memories of Snape's 'lessons' flashed through his mind, Harry trying desperately to 'clear his mind' before the vampire caught sight of them.

"Well fuck" Christopher declared bluntly with a scowl, "Harry bloody Potter. Just my luck".

"What?" Harry blurted dumbly as his wand was roughly shoved at his chest, quickly catching it and turning it on the pouting vampire.

"I can't exactly eat Harry Potter can I?" Christopher exclaimed, "You people treat us like shit as it is. A vampire eating Harry Potter would cause a nation-wide fucking genocide!" he snapped angrily before pouting again, "And I was looking forward to eating tonight".

"Wait what?" Harry asked, "You're not going to eat me because I'm Harry Potter?" he clarified slowly, wondering if his fame was finally being good for something.

"Yeah, yeah, don't rub it in" Christopher muttered darkly, leaving Harry confused at the vampire's rapid mood swings. "Here's a word of advice, little snack" the vampire muttered, "First. Find some proper training in your wizarding mind magics. Your Professor Snape was attacking your mind and tearing it further and further open with every lesson. And second? Stop coming down to fucking vampire territory unless you _want_ to be eaten" he scolded.

"Uh sorry?" Harry offered nervously, still not lowering his wand from where he was aiming for the vampire's chest.

"Oh shut up" Christopher muttered, turning and blurring away, leaving Harry standing alone in the middle of the alleyway.

Glancing down at his shaking hand, Harry collapsed back against the wall and slid to the floor, cursing himself for letting things get as far as they had. He should never have left the house , screw the Dursleys wanting to have a family dinner, he could have stayed up in his room with a sandwich or something. But _no…_ instead he happens to stumbled across a fucking vampire feeding ground and almost get eaten.

He's Harry bloody Potter, why would he expect any different from his life?

As his heartbeat returned to normal, Harry tightened his grip on his wand. He wasn't going to put his wand away until he was back on the surface, and even then he was going to slip it up his sleeve so he could reach it quickly. Screw the Ministry, he'd just been attacked by vampires, if a Muggle saw his wand then they'd just have to put up with it.

Forcing himself back up to his feet, Harry glanced around nervously before starting towards where he knew the stairs up to the street where. He'd take Christopher's advice and never come down here again, not for as long as this night remained in his memory.

A flicker of movement had his stomach knotting up again, a red-haired vampire stepping out in front of him with a smirk. Almost instantly he recognised the vampire as a member of Christopher's group, the one that had called him scrawny and had held him still. "Your boss said I was to go free" Harry blurted, hoping that the vampire would believe him, "He knew what kill me would cause".

"I really don't care" the red-haired vampire dismissed with a shrug, "I'm hungry, and I've never tried magical blood before. Besides, Chrissy is my Sire, he's not my boss".

As Harry's mouth opened to curse the vampire, his hands rose and he snapped his fingers, Harry's body freezing as all his muscles locked up. Straining to fight the vampire's 'Blood Blessing', Harry was helpless to watch as the vampire strode up to him with a smirk. "He was right you know, you smell like a wet dream come true" the vampire whispered as he buried his nose into Harry's neck and inhaled deeply, Harry's mind screaming for him to break free and tear the vampire apart.

"Sorry little wizard, you're not going to break free" the vampire hissed in his air, "Not even Christopher can overpower my Blessing".

His magic rushing and crashing through his body, trying to break the vampire's Blessing, Harry felt the vampire circling him as long fingers pulled the neck of his shirt down to expose his flesh. The Blessing lifted with a crack as pain exploded across his neck, Harry's legs going limp as the vampire held him up. Weakly raising his wand, Harry jabbed it over his shoulder, collapsing to his knees as a wordless spell surged past him to lift the vampire off his feet.

Rolling over and aiming his wand again, his free hand coming up to cover the flesh torn up by the vampire's fangs, Harry watched as the vampire gracefully leapt to his feet only to be thrown into the wall with a loud crack.

"You were always more trouble than you were worth" Christopher's voice drawled from behind Harry, two blurs shooting past him to reveal Elara and another blond vampire who pounced on the red-head. "Tear him apart" Christopher's emotionless voice ordered, Harry watched as the red-haired vampire's head was torn off mid-scream, the blond chucking it into the air and setting it on fire with a wave of his hands.

The pain in Harry's throat died out instantly as hands gently lowered him to the floor, leaving him staring up at Christopher's furious red eyes. "Well fuck" the vampire hissed, "He tore the jugular".

He was going to die… for the second time that night Harry realised he was dying. Only this time he wasn't going to be saved by a nosy vampire reading his mind and figuring out who he was. He didn't want to die, he'd rather be a -

Harry cut the thought off immediately, the look of pity in Christopher's eyes showing that he'd heard it anyway. "You don't have much time left Harry Potter" the vampire whispered, "Make your decision". Still strangely devoid of the pain and the dizziness that he knew he should be feeling, Harry just blinked up at the three vampires now crouching over him.

Harry rolled his head to the side, only just realising that he couldn't move his arms or legs as he bared the other side of his throat to the blond vampire.

As his vision blurred two sharp pinpricks appeared in his neck, not feeling anything like the other bite but instead feeling like he'd been bitten by a bug. As the pain in his neck faded, he felt two hands sliding beneath him and lifting him up, a numb coldness spreading out from the bite on his neck.

"Elara" he heard Christopher's voice say, "Get back to the house and prepare a room. Jared, follow his scent and collect his things from his old home. He's going to be touch and go, but he might make it".

"Goddess help him through this" Elara's voice echoed through the haze and the darkness clouding his mind. "I hope he survives, he's actually rather cute".


	31. Snowfall

**I don't own Harry Potter or X-Men.**

* * *

**DZ2's Weather Wizard **Challenge.

**Plot:** When the stormclouds gathered before the Dementors' arrival, it _wasn't_ the Dementors making it happen: it was Harry!

* * *

Harry James Potter swayed back and forth, the rusty chains of the swing set creaking ominously in the night.

If someone where to look at his face, they'd probably say he was lost in thought. But if they were able to see into his mind itself, they'd see that he was actually so lost that it was like he had gotten turned around in the woods and somehow ended up in the middle of the Arctic.

The topic that he was so lost in, was both a simple one, and the most complicated topic he'd ever imagined.

War… Or more specifically, the lack of war.

The Dark Lord Voldemort had returned at the end of last year, and even though the Ministry's official stance was 'Deny, Deny, Deny', there was a surprising lack of _anything_ in either the Muggle or Magical news. The Magical news was overrun with a smear campaign against both Harry and Albus Dumbledore, while the Muggle news was finding itself so out of interesting news that they're covering old ladies who named their cats after the seven dwarves.

It was almost like Voldemort was in hiding. Which honestly, Harry could understand, it made some kind of sense to stay under the radar for as long as one could while everyone else covered their ears in denial. If Harry wasn't so certain that Fudge was just so stupid and cowardly, then he'd be suspicious that the man was on Voldemort's side.

The sound of thunder pulled his mind back to the present, making him glance up into the sky to eye the black clouds he could see approaching in the distance. He needed to leave now, if he didn't beat Dudley back to Privet Drive then Vernon would probably lock him out all night again. And unfortunately, the brewing thunderstorm would only make his obese cousin waddle home faster, lessening the amount of time Harry had to get back.

Standing and letting his feet walk a familiar path on their own, Harry's mind faded into the background again as he returned to his thoughts.

And thinking about taking sides during this war. What side was Dumbledore on exactly? Harry had long since accepted that when Voldemort returned, (When, not if), that he'd be a 'high-profile' target considering the Dark Lord's obsession with him. Harry himself had also been the one 'lucky' enough to take part in the ritual that resurrected Voldemort. And not only that, but Harry had fought the Dark Lord and won _four_ times.

And yet where was Harry? Where was the only person other than Dumbledore to fight Voldemort and win? He was stuck in Privet Drive with his abusive 'family', while his best friends acted like he didn't exist!

Well screw them, he decided. If they were going to treat him like this then he could return the favour.

Ron was already on Harry's shit list, after almost getting him killed by a nesting bloody dragon over sheer _jealousy_, there was no way that Harry was going to forgive or trust him ever again.

And while Harry had originally trusted Hermione with everything, that she refused to respond to his begging wasn't sitting well with him. She didn't even answer his questions about homework, instead choosing to owl-nap his familiar when he sent Hedwig for news. Admittedly, if she apologized and had a good enough reason then he would forgive her in the snap of his fingers, but that still wouldn't bring back his trust in her.

A rolling crash above his head made Harry start violently, hands raising to shield himself even as he flinched away from the thunder roaring through the sky. Shaking off the nervousness that gripped his stomach, Harry glanced up at the black storm clouds, faltering slightly as he realised they were above his head already. Licking his lips nervously at the sight, Harry started walking faster, part of him wondering if there was a magic reason behind the storm.

Cutting down the alleyway between Magnolia and Wisteria, a wisp of icy-white mist erupting from his mouth made him freeze. Exhaling slowly again and watching as his breath iced over, Harry raised his hands to pat at flushed cheeks and rub over warm arms.

Why was his breath icing over when he was so warm? Despite his cold breath, Harry himself wasn't at all cold, feeling rather toasty dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Raising a hand to his boiling forehead, Harry frowned, wondering if his body temperature was just the result of the fever that he might have. Not wanting to be locked out all night if he had a fever, Harry started down the alleyway, only making it halfway before the street lamps on either side of the alley suddenly went dead.

Shifting slowly on his feet, Harry's hand crept towards his back pocket, suspicion and nervousness flooding him as he caught sight of the street lamps down the street flickering on and off as if in response to magic. A faint cracking sound echoed from near his feet, making him glance down quickly as he lifted his foot, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he saw the sheen of broken ice where he'd been standing. Setting his foot back down, Harry watched in growing shock as the ice was instantly mended, two circles of ice slowly spreading out from his frozen sneakers.

It was him? He was the source of the magic? Could it be his magical majority? Sirius had explained that to him, that around his sixteenth birthday he'd start experiencing fluctuations in his magic as it grew in preparation for his coming of age.

No, it couldn't be. He was fifteen. And as different as Harry bloody Potter always was, there was no way that he could possibly be going through his magical majority an entire _year_ too early.

Thunder made Harry freeze, glancing up to where he could see the black clouds, swirling around straight above his head. As the wind picked up, whipping at Harry's hair and clothes, he watched as lightning arced between the clouds. Something was definitely wrong, Harry had neither the knowledge nor the power required to create a storm like this. And no matter what was happening to his magic, he knew that the alien presence he could somehow _sense_ within the storm wasn't related to him at all.

Footsteps made him stiffen, his hand snapping back to draw his wand, holding it against his leg as he turned to face the source of the footsteps. Moments later, the shambling hulking silhouette of his cousin appeared at the mouth of the alley as the teenager started down it, his attention completely occupied by the bar of chocolate he was gnawing on.

Something tickling his ankle made him glance down to see the ice coating his sneakers was slowly spreading up his foot. "What are you doing here Freak?" his cousin's voice demanded, making him slowly glance back up to watch Dudley who was watching him - and his wand - with fear even as he continued eating.

"Hey Big D" Harry began slowly, not going to lay down and let his cousin walk all over him when he was in this mood. "Beat up another ten-year old?"

"This one deserved it" Dudley spat, coming to a stop just outside arm's reach from Harry. "He cheeked me, he did".

"Really?" Harry drawled slowly, faking surprise. "Did he say you looked like a pig that's been taught to walk? Cause that's not cheek, oh Duddykins, that's true" he taunted innocently.

Satisfaction flooded Harry as he caught the way his cousin's fleshy jaw twitched and his face flushed in anger. While he could raise his wand and hex his cousin, he could always relieve his stress by insulting Dudley since the fat boy was too slow to catch the youngest Seeker in a century.

"Think you're a big man carrying that _thing_ do you?" Dudley sneered, raising his hand to gesture at Harry's wand even as he snapped it up at the first sign of movement. "Don't have the guts to take me on without it do you?"

"As opposed to you" Harry countered, lowering his wand to gesture at Dudley's stomach with it, "You're pretty much all gut aren't you?"

"At least I'm not afraid of my pillow" Dudley began, an explosion of glass behind him making him squeal like a pig and cower as Harry's wand moved to aim at the shattered lamppost. "You're- you're not allowed to do _that_ out of that Freak school you go to" he stuttered out nervously.

"That wasn't me" Harry corrected slowly, figuring he should at least _warn_ his cousin, even if he only does it once. "We're not alone. I can feel the magic behind the storm, someone conjured it" he explained, ignoring his cousin's whimper at the word 'magic'.

"You know what Dudley" he ground out coldly, "You call _me_ a Freak. And yet _you're_ the one whose a fat, lazy, good-for-nothing loser that's never going to move out of his parent's place" he spat. "So while you're stuck selling drugs and beating up children in ten years time, I want you to remember that this _Freak_ has been famous since he was fifteen months old, and has so much money that he'll never have to work a day in his life".

Easily sidestepping his cousin as Dudley let out a roar of anger and charged at him, Harry raised his wand to warn off the fat boy, pausing as something white drifting down in front of his face caught his attention. Blinking at confusion at the small white thing dancing across the air, Harry glanced up at his cousin who was captivated by a second feather-like object, both of them staring at each other for a moment before tilting their heads up to the sky.

The storm was gone…there was no more thunder, no more black clouds.

There was just howling winds and a flurry of snow.

"There's no way I could do this" Harry exhaled, more for his own benefit than for Dudley's as they both watched the blizzard raging above Surrey during the middle of a _British Summer_.

Dudley let out another whimper and Harry followed his line of sight, a whimper of his own slipping past his lips as he watched the actual _wall_ of snow moving towards them. "Dudley… Dudley run!" Harry ordered, darting forward to grab his cousin's arm, trying to pull the shocked boy away from the snow and towards Privet Drive so they weren't stuck outside when the storm hit.

Looking over his cousin's shoulder, Harry felt a fear that he hadn't felt before latching onto his chest at the sight of two dementors racing the snowstorm to reach them. "DUDLEY MOVE!" he screamed, raising his wand and jabbing it into the fat of Dudley's side, causing his cousin to let out a startled roar and start swinging at him. Jumping back, Harry let the enraged Dudley down the alleyway, keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching dementors.

They wouldn't be able to outrun them. He'd have to stop and hit them with a Patronus just to give Dudley a chance to get behind the 'blood wards' that were supposed to be protecting #4 Privet Drive. Would the blood wards work though? According to Dumbledore they're supposed to protect him from Death Eaters and Voldemort, would they even make two dementors pause before moving on to suck out their souls? What the hell were two dementors doing in Little Whinging anyway? And how did they create a bloody _blizzard_?

A loud humming filled the air and Harry looked forward, seeing something large and invisible flying above the street, only the snow he could see giving way for it revealing it was even there. Harry skidded to a halt as the thing appeared with a shimmer, revealing a huge sleek jet hovering in the middle of the street. Dudley shot past him and tripped, sliding through the snow as the jet landed and a ramp descended right in front of his face, causing the boy to faint face-first onto the concrete.

His instincts screaming at him made him spin around, his wand raising automatically as the dementor burst through the mouth of the alleyway and dove for him. Only for a beam of red energy to fire straight over his shoulder to hit the dark creature in the chest. Jaw dropping as he watched the dementor go flying, Harry watched as another continuous beam of light struck the it, the black wraith letting out a pain filled shriek before exploding into black particles.

A hand grabbing his shoulder made him jump, whipping around to see a tall brown-haired man trying to pull him back towards the jet, a hand resting on the strange red glasses on his face. Moving obediently, Harry stumbled towards the jet where two women were waiting for him, one with brilliant red hair and the other with almost ethereal white hair.

"Harry you need to promise me you'll relax" the red-head blurted, grabbing his arm and pulling him over without hesitation, both women placing a hand on his cheek before doing the same to the other. "You're very powerful Harry" she continued as he watched the white-haired woman's eyes going pure white, "But you're emotional right now and your powers are reacting to that and manifesting".

As a soothing wave rolled through his body, Harry felt tension he didn't know he felt washing out after it. "Harry… we're here to help" the white-haired woman whispered, "Just relax. Release the blizzard, let me help you".

He felt something nudging its way through his mind, but before he could rise up to try push it out, another calming wave surged through his body and he just went limp and let it do what it wanted. Absently hearing the buzzing sound of that red spell blasting away behind him, something redirected his thoughts back to the blizzard, back to the rolling mass of power he could almost _feel _beneath his skin.

"_It's okay… you're okay… nothing is going to hurt you now"_ the red-head's voice whispered, "_Go to sleep Harry… you're exhausted. Everything is going to be okay. Now __**sleep**_".

* * *

As Harry went limp in her arms, Jean struggled to keep the connection open between her and Ororo without dragging them into sleep with him.

"I'm almost there" Ororo half-whispered and half-thought, the roaring wind fading away seconds later as the setting sun appeared suddenly. "Got it!" she declared loudly, relief filling her voice as she lowered her hands from their faces.

"Jean? 'Ro?" Scott asked from the street, making Jean glance up at her lover. "Are those _things_ gone?" he asked cautiously.

"They are" Ororo confirmed after a quick glance around, making Jean sigh in relief as she released the connection between their minds, her partner no longer needing to be able to see what Ororo saw. "Are you okay?"

"That was exhausting" Jean admitted simply, smiling awkwardly as she watched Scott nudging at the unconscious fat boy with his boot.

"You're telling me" Ororo snorted, "That boy is one powerful mutant, if you hadn't put him under I doubt I could have released the blizzard before it reached us".

"Well then let's get this one back home" Scott decided, nudging at the fat boy (Dudley, she thought) with his foot again. "Then we can talk to _his_ parents" he continued gesturing at Harry, "And talk them into bringing Harry to the Mansion for training".

"I don't think that's going to be a problem" Jean mumbled as she recalled what she had seen while in both boy's minds. "They're cousins. And Harry's Aunt and Uncle are apparently going to be glad to get rid of him, if Harry's mind is any indication. I just don't think that the training is going to be that easy" she confessed, "He's one just giant mass of emotional pain" she explained with a grimace.

"Well then" Ororo murmured, gently brushing Harry's hair from his face to reveal a lightning bolt scar, "Then it's a good thing that the Professor did that decree in psychology isn't it?"


	32. Tainted Blood

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**DZ2's** **Dark Shadows of the Potters** Challenge.

**Plot:** The Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, one of the Lightest, most heroic, Gryffindor-centric families in the history of magic... and yet there is more to the family than meets the eye.

* * *

Children laughed as they dragged their parents up and down the street, all of them dressed in a dazzling variety of costumes.

Werewolves, witches, and pirates alike all went from door to door with grins on their faces and a spring in their step, the bags at their sides weighed down with candy. As parents exchanged knowing looks, all of them glad that Halloween that year was a Saturday (So they didn't have to deal with hyperactive children up all night on a weekday when they should be sleeping), a single cloaked figure stepped out from behind a tree and started down the street.

Making his way down the street with his hood pulled down over his face, the figure paused to allow an exasperated woman past, a condescending sneer tugging at his lips as he glanced over her son who was waving a painted stick in the air and yelling nonsense. Resisting the urge to correct the boy's pronunciation of 'Abracadabra' by sending a 'Avada Kedavra' at him, the hooded figure continued down the street, finally coming to a stop around halfway down the road.

To anyone that was looking, the hooded man was merely standing there looking between numbers 5 and 9. The hooded man however, was studying the two-story house resting between them, being one of the seven people capable of even knowing that number 7 Gryphon Road even existed, everyone else merely believing there had been an error in the numbering of the street.

Eyeing the house suspiciously, the Dark Lord Voldemort reached out with his magic and probed at the dwelling, hairless eyebrows shooting up in shock as he discovered the total lack of wards and protections beyond an alarm spell. Success already flashing through blood-red eyes, Voldemort pushed open the gate and stalked up the stone path, a flick of his wrist causing his bone-white wand to snap into his palm from its holster on his forearm. Stopping at the boundary of the alarm ward, Voldemort raised his arms and started muttering under his breath, feeling as his magic surged out of him to settle into the form of an anti-teleportation ward around the property which stopped all methods of magical travel within its borders.

As a smirk tugged at his lips, Voldemort purposely stepped through the alarm ward and continued up the path towards the house. Flicking his wand he sent a blast of magic at the front door, barely catching a glimpse of a person rounding the corner at the top of the stairs in front of him before a shield was springing from the end of his wand as a red bolt of magic flew at him from the side.

"Potter" Voldemort greeted coldly as he turned to see the Potter Lord standing there with his wand raised. "This does not have to end badly. You could merely give me the boy" he suggested slowly, not wanting to kill _another_ Pureblood when too many had already died resisting him.

Potter (James he believed, nasty common name if you asked him) didn't reply verbally, choosing instead to throw a blasting hex at him that Voldemort deflected almost lazily.

"Very well. You will join your mudblood wife and your son in death" Voldemort declared, sending a powerful bone-breaking hex at Potter who barely managed to throw up a shield in time to stop it.

Voldemort faltered, resisting the urge to step back in shock as Potter's eyes shifted, the iris changing from a light hazel to an eerily glowing red as the rest of his eyes turned pure black. "You will _not_ touch them!" Potter snarled out, a hiss echoing with his voice as elongated canines were bared in a growl.

Lip curling in disgust, Voldemort unleashed a spell chain of dangerous dark curses at the black-haired man, losing all desire to try keep Potter alive with the revelation that the man's blood wasn't as pure as he originally believed. Moving with reflexes confirming his creature status, Potter dodged some of his spells and shielded against the rest, not hesitating as he retaliated with a series of hexes and curses that Voldemort was shocked to see coming from such a 'Light' orientated person.

After what felt like hours of dueling, Voldemort being grudgingly forced to admit that Potter was talented and that he was actually rather enjoying their battle, he finally managed to get a spell past the seemingly untiring Potter's defenses and hit him dead in the chest.

Smirking as the black-haired creature blinked at him slowly, Voldemort turned his back on the collapsing half-breed and stepped over a chunk of rubble as he started up the staircase. Following the sound of feminine chanting Voldemort strode down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of a door that had a slight glow to it, a simple life-sensing charm revealing Potter's whore and spawn were on the other side of the door. Tilting his head and listening to the chant for a moment, Voldemort frowned slightly as he failed to recognise the spell, unable to recognise the strangely familiar language it was being cast in.

Raising his wand Voldemort threw an explosive charm at the door, blasting it off its hinges and into the room. Striding in quickly he paused at the sight of the red-headed witch lying in a crumpled heap on the other side of the room, the remains of the door scattered around her as a slowly growing halo of blood spread from her head. "Mudbloods" he sneered under his breath with a smirk before turning to face the crib which held a confused looking black-haired baby.

Approaching the crib Voldemort was shocked when the baby, Harry, took one look at his face and giggled. The baby clapping his hands together, letting out a string of happy babbles as emerald-green eyes turned red like Potter's had.

_This_ was the boy destined to defeat him? A non-human _creature_ was prophesied to vanquish the greatest Sorcerer to ever live? Perhaps he was wrong… he had only chosen Potter since they were both half-bloods, a taint that would torment him for the rest of his immortal life, but maybe it _was_ the pureblood child that was the threat. It had to be the pureblood, this creature was still sitting there giggling and babbling at him, the idea of _this_ being his vanquisher was amusing at the least.

Still… it was better to be safe than sorry, or whatever that muggle saying was…

Raising his wand, Voldemort opened his mouth to cast the killing curse only for a voice to interrupt him. Spinning to face Lily Potter, Voldemort turned his wand on her as she blinked up at him, muttering something under her breath as she reached for her wand. Recognising the signs of a concussion on her face, Voldemort summoned her wand to him and snapped it slowly, absently throwing a charm at the broken half of the door lying on her to increase its weight and pin her down.

Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out a small dagger, the green-tinted blade shining in the light as he held it in his hand and glanced over to Potter again. "Feel honored _mudblood_" he hissed out, "For you are about to watch the greatest Dark Lord in all time gain immortality".

Turning back to the crib Voldemort began chanting, speaking the all-too familiar ritual for the creation of his seventh and his final horcrux. As he felt the ritual magic taking hold of his soul Voldemort raised his wand and aimed it at the still red-eyed Harry Potter who was now frowning up at him as if he had finally realised that something was wrong.

"Avada" Voldemort began, the second word of the curse easily sliding from his mouth as Lily Potter's muttering suddenly got louder, the chant she had been reciting earlier flooding through the room as blood-red runes suddenly began glowing in a circle around the crib.

Upon seeing the runes realisation struck Voldemort.

Fae…

James Potter and his son were Fae.

He didn't have time to wonder what breed of Fae the Potters were before the killing curse was striking an invisible barrier that spanned the circle surrounded by the runes, the spell somehow not only being stopped by the barrier but actually being reflected straight back at him as the barrier exploded as everything turned white.

* * *

Lily groaned as she shoved weakly at the half of the nursery door that was currently lying across on the small of her back and pinning her to the floor.

Tears welled from her eyes as she couldn't resist glancing over to the crib, the sight of her son's limp body tearing a sob from her lips as she went limp herself, laying there and sneering over to the pile of ash that had once been Voldemort's body. "I hope it hurt, you _bastard_" Lily spat out, glaring darkly as she glanced over her shoulder at the heavy, obviously charmed, door.

Glancing back over before she could stop herself, Lily wondered why the ritual didn't work. It had been designed centuries ago to defend against soul magicks, meaning it would work (And had done so before) against a spell which was designed to tear someone's soul out instantly. She and James had spent hours and days going over the runes to make sure they were written down correctly and were in the right order. They both had even taken turns at performing the ritual so she knew that her own Fae blood, however diluted, was strong enough to activate the shield.

Unless… unless the Fae blood she had inherited from her grandmother had just not been strong enough to counter the strength of Voldemort's killing curse…

As she sagged back down weakly she peered over at the shards of her wand and swallowed dryly, feeling numb and empty as she lay there.

The sound of a whimper made Lily's head snap back up, eyes instantly locking onto the shifting form of Harry as she watched him twitching. Feeling a strength she didn't know she was capable of rushing through her veins, she slowly placed both hands on the door and pushed, feeling sweat beading up on her forehead as her magic surged up to lift the door off the ground, floating into the air like gravity had no hold on it.

Forcing her aching (And possibly broken) body to its feet, Lily stumbled over to Harry and swooped down to pick her drowsy son up, flinching at the sight of the lightning bolt-shaped gash on his forehead. Moving to pull her wand out, Lily froze and glanced over at the shards once more, her eyes slowly raising to stare at the white wand sticking out of the pile of ash.

Grimacing, Lily snatched up Voldemort's wand as Harry sniffled and clutched at her shirt, whimpering softly as she turned it on him and cast a medical scanning spell. Sighing in relief as she realised that aside from the gash and being magical exhausted, her son was fine, wondering absently if Harry's exhaustion was due to accidental magic interfering with the magic of the ritual to cause the explosion that had blasted away most of the wall and ceiling.

Holding Harry to her chest, Lily cautiously started towards the door, Voldemort's wand raised as she left the nursery with the darkest grey spell she knew on the tip of her tongue. Casting a life-revealing spell Lily froze as the spell showed a faint life-sign in the living room, hope fluttering up in her chest as she shot towards the stairs and rushed down them to see James lying in a crumpled heap.

Darting over she set Harry down beside her and started waving the wand over James' body, letting out a whimper of relief at she realised that her husband was alive… if only barely.

A loud crack made her snap up, her wand pointing at the door and a curse flying from her lips as a black-haired man ran into the room, Sirius Black barely throwing himself to the side in time to avoid the crushing curse thrown at his head. "LILY! DOWN GIRL!" Sirius called out from his place on the floor with his hands over his head. "James?" he blurted as he scrambled over to her side with wide fearful eyes.

"He's still alive" Lily confessed as she and Sirius cast spells over James' body rapidly, "I don't know the curse though so I can't counter it" she choked out.

"Take him" Sirius ordered, his normally grey eyes now a glowing gold, "I'll take Harry to the Bunker, you get James to the Realm".

"What? Are you sure?" Lily exhaled as she watched Sirius grab Harry who merely squirmed and reached for James with red eyes. "Go" she instructed without waiting for him to answer, "I won't be able to come back until James is better. Look after him" she added unnecessarily as she leaned over to kiss Harry on the forehead, knowing that Sirius and Remus would tear anyone apart who tried to go after Harry, both werewolves extremely protective of their Pack. Choking on a sob Lily pulled James onto her lap and grasped the emerald pendant around her neck, activating the portkey now that the anti-teleportation wards had fallen with Voldemort.

Sniffing Sirius tightened his grip on Harry who was whimpering now, "It'll be fine pup" he murmured softly, "Papa and Mama are going to okay, they'll be back soon".

"Pa'oot?" Harry mumbled with a yawn, making Sirius chuckle before he could stop himself.

"It's me Prongslet" Sirius agreed as he slowly stood and looked around, his wand out and at the ready even as he felt anger rising up inside his chest. "You better run Wormtail" he growled out as Harry clutched at his shirt and yawned once more. Swearing to hunt down the rat and make him pay (Before giving him to Remus and Lily for the execution), Sirius instead climbed the stairs and rushed into the nursery, barely pausing to vanish the runes painted in blood on the floor before they were noticed.

Flicking his wand a couple of times Sirius had a bag packed for Harry in seconds, shifting the exhausted infant in his arms he threw the bag over his other shoulder and slowly headed downstairs again, planning on leaving a note for James and Lily to find when they returned from the Fae Realm.

Pinning the note to the fridge Sirius froze as two cracks filled the air, one of them louder than the first. Swallowing nervously Sirius edged towards the back door, planning on sending a bombarda into the living room and running.

"Do yeh think they made it Professor?" Hagrid's emotional voice rumbled through the house making Sirius sigh in relief and push open the door in time to hear a snarled "Stupefy!" before everything went black.


	33. To Ashes

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed**

* * *

**DZ2's Charmed Harry** **Challenge.**

**Plot:** Through magical means in the midst of or following one of his adventures, Harry gains powers equal to those of a Wiccan, Demon or Angel.

* * *

_**The Tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least.**_

_**Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's shoulder, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky… this is very shallow… it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though…"**_

_**She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and he felt it heal instantly. "Now , just sit quietly for a minute - **_**sit!** _**And then you can go and get your score".**_

As Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the next cubicle, her voice magically cutting off as she pulled the canvas around his cubicle shut, Harry only hesitated for a mere second before disobeying her and sliding off the bed and to his feet.

Gingerly poking at his shoulder, only a dull ache betraying the previous injury, Harry drew his wand and whispered out a freezing charm at the cubicle 'door'. Glancing around innocently, he began inspecting his clothes, sniffing at them hesitantly and sneezing at the strong scent of ashes and fire.

How was he still alive?

The Horntail had unleashed a stone-melting cone of fire straight into Harry's face, and yet it had only warmed him up. He had walked through a blast of dragon fire without even a scorch mark to show for it, not even his clothes, wand, or Firebolt showed any signs of being incinerated.

Beginning to pace as the adrenaline rushing through his body got the better of him, Harry dropped his wand onto the bed and raised his hands, staring at them as if he could actually _see_ the burning flames he felt surging through his veins. Licking his lips with a nervous glance towards the cubicle entrance, Harry probed at the power he could feel within him, eyes widening as he felt it rolling up his arm when he flexed his hand.

Flexing his hand again, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of power. He remembered when he was learning the Patronus charm last year, Professor Lupin had taught him how to feel his magic, saying it made casting such an emotional spell easier. But right now? This wasn't his magic, not entirely… it felt like it was attached to his magic only separate. Like non-identical twins, coming from the same source and being similar, but still having differences between each other.

Focusing on the way the new magic felt, Harry continued flexing his hand, trying to 'egg' the magic on to reach his hand the way he knew it wanted to. Footsteps made him stop quickly, releasing the magic into his body as he snatched up his wand and threw a counter-charm at the curtain in time for it to be torn open.

A shrieked "HARRY!" was all the warning he had before he had a mouthful of bushy brown hair, Hermione's arms wrapping painfully around his chest as she buried her face in his throat. "Oh Harry!" she blurted as she pulled her face away, refusing to unlock her arms as she at him with wild eyes and fingernail marks on her cheeks. "You were _brilliant_! You were amazing!" she exclaimed, a look of relief and fear flashing through her eyes.

"I'm also bruised" Harry gasped out as her arms tightened, making her jump back guiltily and pull her wand out, pulling his shirt up before he could stop her to inspect his chest.

"Oh my god Harry! What happened?" Hermione demanded as she started muttering and flicking her wand at him, "And why didn't Madam Pomfrey fix these?"

"Dragon to the chest" Harry deadpanned, causing Hermione to pause and scowl at him. "And I didn't say anything, I didn't even know it was that bad. Where did you learn healing spells anyway?" he asked curiously.

"I asked Madam Pomfrey after you agreed to let me train you" Hermione confessed, pulling his shirt down with a blush as she put away her wand.

A throat clearing pulled Harry's attention away from his best friend and up to the door, where the boy who once held that title was standing there with a face so pale he could blend into snow. "Harry" Ron blurted, staring at Harry as if he were a ghost, "Whoever put your name into that goblet… I uh… I reckon they were trying to do you in".

That was it? After all the shit that Ron had put him through since his name was pulled the Goblet of Fire, he thought that such a _pathetic_ not-apology was good enough? He thought he could say that now, when he should have said it the night that Harry was forced into becoming a Champion?

A soft noise from Hermione made Harry realise that they were waiting for his response. "Caught on have you?" he said coldly, "Took you long enough".

As Hermione backed away from them, looking between the two boys nervously, Harry watched the emotion crossing Ron's face. The redhead looked constipated, his mouth opening and closing as words escaped him. He was going to apologize, Harry realised, and strangely enough he didn't need - no he didn't _want_ \- to hear it.

"It's okay" he interrupted as Ron's mouth opened again. "Forget it".

"No" Ron denied, "I shouldn't have".

"Forget it" Harry pressed, making Ron grin nervously at him as Hermione burst into tears. "What are _you_ crying 'bout?" he asked her in confusion, eyeing her cautiously.

"You!" Hermione exclaimed, "You two are so _stupid_!"

Harry just snorted as Ron took a slow step forward. "No. Stupid would be if I forgave that bastard" he corrected simply making the redhead stop in his tracks.

"What?" Ron asked dumbly, even Hermione pausing and blinking at him in confusion.

"I said. 'Stupid would be if I forgave that bastard'" Harry repeated slowly, a sneer tugging at his lips as he glared at Ron. "You turned your back on me. You accused me of being a liar. You almost got me _killed_" he snarled out, "Why the hell would I _ever _forgive you?"

"Mr Potter!" Pomfrey's voice rang out, "I thought I told you to sit down?" the Medi-Witch snapped as she pushed him towards the bed again.

"Hermione made me move" Harry lied bluntly, causing the girl to squawk in mock outrage.

"I'm sure she did" Madam Pomfrey agreed knowingly, "Has a terrible mean streak she does. Hmmm, your shoulder looks fine. Does it hurt anymore?"

Rolling his shoulder obediently, Harry hoped the way he refused to even glance at Ron said it all, just so he didn't have to. "It's a little stiff, but it doesn't hurt. Hermione healed the bruises too" he answered.

As Madam Pomfrey scolded him for not mentioning the bruises, Harry just grinned at the half-scowling Hermione, pretending to not notice how she kept looking between him and Ron. "Alright Mr Potter, go get your scores now" she ordered, "I'm sure you're just shaking with excitement".

Grabbing his wand, Harry shrank his Firebolt and the Golden Egg and pocketed them, throwing his arm over Hermione's shoulder and pushing straight past Ron. "Harry?" his best friend whispered slowly, "Ron-".

"Doesn't matter" Harry interrupted loudly, "He betrayed me, I can't forgive that".

"Hey!" Ron snapped from behind them, "I said I was sorry! I made a mistake!"

"And I trusted you" Harry spat, turning to glare at the angry redhead, "So I guess we both made mistakes didn't we? You knew" he continued as Ron flinched. "You knew about the dragons and you didn't say anything. You and your jealousy could have gotten me _killed_"

"And I was wrong!" Ron shouted as he stepped forward, only to jolt back as the grass between him and Harry burst into flames.

Pausing for a moment to glance down at his clenched fist, feeling the non-magic in his veins humming loudly in response to the fire. "Yeah Ron" he agreed slowly as he decided to test this new form of magic later with Hermione's help. "You were wrong" he continued, not caring about the way all three Champions and Madam Pomfrey were watching them cautiously. "You also spent the last month pretending we were never friends, all because you were jealous of something you should have known I didn't want. Well guess what Ronald? You don't have to pretend anymore, we're over".

Slowly and purposely, Harry turned his back on Ron and continued to lead Hermione out of the tent, ignoring her quiet sniffles as he focused on calming himself down. "So uh" he forced out hesitantly, hoping that Hermione wouldn't leave him for the way he treated Ron, "What were the others like against their dragons?"

"Oh um, Cedric transfigured a dog" Hermione croaked out, "But the dragon went after him when he got too close to her nest. And Krum destroyed most of the eggs when he hit his dragon in the eyes with a spell. Oh! And Fleur used her allure on the dragon and it snored fire on her" she added with a hint of vindictiveness to her voice.

Neither of them spoke as they approached Professor McGonagall and let themselves be led back into the arena, standing on the edge of the 'battlefield' where Harry could now see the Judge's table at the far end of the stands. As the judges scored him, Harry found himself realising that he didn't actually care about his scores. He wasn't doing this for their scores, he was doing this to stay alive despite how much they wanted him dead.

He didn't let go of Hermione as Bagman explained the purpose behind the Golden Egg. And she clung to him just as tightly when Rita Skeeter asked for a quick word... Hermione chose the word 'Lawsuit' and promised Skeeter she'd be hearing the word again if she continued making up facts. The two of them had ignored the Weasley twins when they had innocently suggested they take the long way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, instead choosing to go sit under 'their' tree beside the lake.

"Harry" Hermione finally whispered, "Are you sure about Ron?"

Harry didn't reply straight away, instead staring out across the lake. "Would you trust Lockhart?" he asked instead, countering her question with another question, "Would you trust Wormtail? Professor Quirrell?"

"Of course not" Hermione scolded, "But that's different, they all tried to kill you. Ron didn't do it on purpose" she pointed out gently.

"Attempted manslaughter is still illegal" Harry argued, not wanting to raise his voice at his only and best friend. "I almost died Hermione. If I hadn't already known about the dragons, then I _would_ have died. Ron knew that I would have to face dragons and he chose to say nothing. It might have been his inaction that killed me, but it would still have been his fault".

"Harry?"

"Drop it" Harry interrupted, not wanting to discuss it anymore. "We need to get to work on the Second Task".

"Fine" Hermione agreed, plucking the Golden Egg from his hands and setting it down in her lap. "We're talking about this later though" she promised warningly, "But first let's try keep you alive".

"Where would I be without you Hermione?" Harry mumbled slowly, watching as the only person he trusted worked to keep him safe.

"Dead" Hermione deadpanned, "Or extremely inju- wait no… you'd be dead" she declared without looking up.

"Thank you" Harry blurted, "Seriously… thank you for everything".

"What are friends for?" Hermione asked with a blush, "And thank you too, you were my first friend".

Reaching out, Harry took the Golden Egg from Hermione and placed it down beside him, pulling Hermione against his side instead. "Not tonight" he murmured as she raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Let's just relax tonight".

"Fine. But I want your transfiguration essay done by lunch tomorrow" Hermione muttered, leaning against his side as they sat there, watching the calming surface of the lake.

"Yes Ma'am, Professor Granger" Harry teased.

"Huh… Professor Granger" Hermione mumbled, "I like that".

"I bet you would" Harry agreed with a yawn, "I bet you would".


	34. Radiance

**I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and the Olympians.**

* * *

**DZ2's** **Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood Challenge.**

**Plot:** Every Half-Blood has one godly parent, this we know: however, Harry is different because of one reason: through the ways of the divine, he has _more_ than one god for a parent/guardian.

* * *

"So" Harry said simply, "Time travel?"

Glancing to his left, Harry watched as Hermione stumbled over her feet blushing, a guilty expression on her face as she peered at him through her hair. "That's why you've been so exhausted I take it?" Harry asked softly, vaulting a fallen tree and stopping to help her over it. "You've been living each day twice right? Since you had two classes on at the same time?"

"Not all day" Hermione finally replied, Harry not glancing away from Buckbeak as he led the hippogriff over the log as well. "Just two hours, an hour per class" she explained as they continued on their way through the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

"Why didn't" he began slowly.

"I tell you?" Hermione finished for him, "I had to take an oath of secrecy. You're not… uh you're not supposed to know about the time turner" she confessed nervously, "So if you could not tell anyone?"

"You know I won't" Harry promised quickly as they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the Weeping Willow silhouetted through the setting sun. "Now what?" he asked, instantly turning control over their 'mission' to Hermione, who had most like come up with an extremely intricate and life-threatening plan by then.

"Now? We wait" Hermione admitted, flicking her wand at the ground a couple of times before sitting down. "Oh stop pouting" she scolded as she glanced back up at him before he could hide his disappointed expression, "The next step is going to be _very_ life-threatening. And yes, I do know you that well" she added with a small smile.

Chuckling as Hermione threw another ferret to Buckbeak, Harry sent a cushioning charm at the ground before flopping down beside her. "I don't know whether to be relieved or not that Voldemort hasn't shown up this year" he mumbled softly after they sat in silence for a minute, "It's making me nervous that he's planning something big".

"If it makes you feel better, Wormtail _is_ a Death Eater" Hermione offered, her voice just as soft as his was.

Harry let out a startled exhale, "Is it a bad thing that it _does_ make me feel better?" he asked slowly. "Merlin, I'm screwed up aren't I? I'm glad that Voldemort keeps trying to kill me. I'm moving in with an escaped convict. I've been having a recurring dream involving a pack of vampire wolves that burn when in sunlight. I'm being haunted by a Grim. And I get off on near-death experiences".

"Okay. I didn't want to know that last one" Hermione drawled, both of them sitting quietly before exchanging a look and bursting into childish giggles. "You _do_ have a thing for extreme sports" she agreed gently, "Quidditch. Sword Fights. Dementor Wrestling" she teased causing him to let out a barking laugh.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Harry countered slowly.

"Hey! Aren't I allowed to let my hair down every now and then?" Hermione mock-scowled, swatting at his shoulder.

"I'm just saying. I didn't know you had a sense of humour" Harry explained, unable to stop himself from grinning at her dry look.

"She gets it from her father".

Biting back a curse, Harry's wand appeared in his hand as he rolled to the side and to his feet, an instinctive shielding charm coming up between the blonde teenager and them. The shield wavered as Harry took in the bright yellow Ferrari the teenager was leaning against, confused about how it and the boy got there without either him or Hermione hearing it.

Glancing over to the shocked Hermione, he opened his mouth to speak, only for Hermione to cut him off with an excited "Dad!"

"Dad?" he echoed dumbly, the shield charm falling entirely as Hermione shot past him and towards the teenager, skidding to a halt in front of him. Harry watched speechless, as Hermione practically vibrated, diving into the teenager's arms the moment he spread them.

"Dad" the teenage boy confirmed as Hermione reluctantly pulled away from him, smoothing down the front of her hoodie and trying to act dignified. "Hermione love? Introductions?"

"You know who this is Dad" Hermione pointed out stubbornly, only to sigh when her 'father' stared at her blankly. "Dad, this is Harry Potter, my best friend" she introduced obediently. "Harry, this is Apollo; God of the Sun, my father".

"God of the Sun?" Harry repeated, nodding for a moment before his up-down movement became side to side as he started shaking his head instead. "Right. Who is he really?" he asked suspiciously, not certain what to do with an overactive Hermione that believed a blonde teenager was not only her father but was also a Greek God.

"Apollo. God of the Sun" 'Apollo' answered helpfully, "I would wax poetic about how awesome I am, but unfortunately we don't have much time".

"Hermione?" Harry pressed, ignoring the delusional teenager as he focused his attention on the almost glowing girl.

"Harry" she began nervously, "He _is_ Apollo. He _is_ my Dad. I'm a Demigod" she explained. "I would have told you" she added quietly, "But the Ministry of Magic classifies Demigods as Dark creatures and I didn't want you to hate me" she confessed.

Harry stared at them in confusion as Hermione turned to face Apollo and let out a rapid stream of an unfamiliar language, something tugging at his mind as if the language were familiar. Believing in magic was one thing. But the Greek Gods? The Ministry calling them Dark at least explained why he hadn't heard of them before, especially since Wizards were incapable of hearing the name 'Voldemort' without panicking.

"Harry?"

"I believe you" Harry interrupted, barely managing to prepare himself before he had a mouthful of brown hair, Hermione squeezing his chest tightly as she hugged him.

"Thank you" Hermione whispered in his ear as she stepped back, the relief in her eyes telling him that it had meant a lot more to Hermione than he first believed. "So Dad, uh, what are you doing here?" she asked, turning back to Apollo.

Apollo just shrugged lazily, Harry blinking in shock as he realised the teenager had aged several years and was now a young adult instead. "How do you feel about a little brother?" he asked innocently, making both Harry _and_ Hermione do a double-take.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked uncertainly, her tone of voice telling Harry she was just as confused as he was.

"Well there's this Demigod I'm rather fond of" Apollo said bluntly, the 'duh' expression on his face making Harry feel stupid for not understanding. "Unfortunately for him however, his mother has disowned him, she refuses to even acknowledge he's hers" he explained, "And since I think he's a great guy I was wondering what you, as the smartest of my current children, thought about me making him my Champion?"

"I don't- I don't understand, why me?" Hermione admitted slowly, sounding like she hated having to say it.

"Because you're one of my smartest children this generation?" Apollo replied with raised eyebrows, "And because you're directly involved with this Demigod?"

"If you think they're worth it" Hermione decided, glancing at Harry the moment Apollo nodded and looked up to the sky, an unfamiliar 'I have no idea what I'm doing' look on her face.

"Alright then!" Apollo chirped happily, "So Harry? What do you say? Wanna be my Champion?"

Harry felt floored for the second time that night, his mouth opening and closing silently as Hermione let out a startled whimper. "I'm… I'm not a Demigod" he blurted, his mind surfacing from a sea of shock to quickly make an argument.

"Yes you are" Apollo corrected.

"No I'm not".

"Yes you are" Apollo repeated.

"No. I'm _not_" Harry ground out, "I know who both my parents were, and my mother _wasn't_ a Goddess who disowned me" he snapped, remembering what Apollo had said about 'his mother'.

"You have two mothers, you were conceived by the Goddess but carried by Lily" Apollo countered. "And despite the fact that your mother is normally a very loving mother, for reasons I'd prefer not to think about she's a total bitch when it comes to you".

Harry just nodded slowly, not wanting to get into an argument with the God who, if his memory served him right, skinned a satyr for playing the flute better than him.

"Harry" Hermione spoke up, making him jump as he remembered his best friend was there too. "Apollo is the God of Truth. He can't lie" she said softly, her voice barely reaching his ears. "If he says your mother was a Goddess, then your mother was a Goddess. And honestly it explains a lot, you have more of an addiction to adrenaline than most Demigods I know, you're mildly dyslexic, you're always moving, and you've got a saving people thing" she explained slowly.

"Fine. If my mother was a Goddess, then who was she?" Harry demanded rudely. He may not trust Apollo, God or not. But he _did_ trust Hermione more than anyone else in the world, and if she said he was a Demigod then Harry was inclined to believe her, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

"I cannot say" Apollo confessed, making Harry snort in amusement. "She disowned you. Until she accepts you as her son, you are considered nothing. The other Gods wouldn't look twice at you, nor would most Demigods".

"Then why are you?" Harry asked suspiciously, "Why are you offering to make me your 'Champion' if most wouldn't look at me?"

"Because I am also the God of Prophecy" Apollo confessed, "And I have Seen that without Godly powers, you'll die. And if you die? Then so does everybody else. Cliche I know, but I only See prophecies, not create them" he explained. "So? What do you say? Wanna be my Son?" he asked again, his face going from serious to hopeful in seconds,

"I thought you said 'Champion'" Harry corrected weakly, his mind filled with images of everyone he knew lying dead and covered in blood because he refused

Apollo just waved his hand dismissively, "Same thing. I'll be adopting you as my Champion, you become my half-son, mine in essence but not in blood".

His breath caught in his throat, Harry turned to Hermione, his best friend looking torn and confused. "We'd be brother and sister" she said slowly, sounding both excited and reluctant, "But… The Ministry of Magic imprisons all Demigods they capture. I can't do that to you".

"What happens to me? If I say yes I mean" Harry blurted, not sure if he was willing to become a Dark creature when the only good thing about it would be him and Hermione being closer.

"You become my son?" Apollo answered slowly, a hint of confusion in his voice. "You gain powers equal to my other sons and daughters? You'll gain a family? And you'll gain the coolest Dad in the world! I'm pretty awesome you know" he said proudly, puffing his chest out.

"And if I say no? What happens then?" Harry asked hesitantly, not wanting to give the impression he was saying no.

"Then you don't become my son. You don't gain powers equal to my other sons and daughters. You don't gain a family, _or_ the coolest Dad in the world" Apollo replied simply, "Oh and you'll be defenceless when a monster or your mother tries to kill you" he finished in a deadpan.

"My _mother_?" Harry echoed in shock.

Apollo just grunted, an annoyed expression on his face. "I wouldn't put it past her" he muttered darkly. "So… yes or no?" he asked as he grinned again, "Can I just remind you that we're on a tight schedule since you're about to be attacked by a werewolf?"

"Oh uh" Harry began, glancing at Hermione again who just shrugged.

"It's up to you Harry" she said softly, the tone of her voice implying she wanted him to say yes.

Harry just shrugged back and turned to face Apollo, his mind racing through thousands of different scenarios that could come from saying either yes or not. He could be discovered and executed. He could just be going insane. He could… he could have a family...

"Alright" Harry blurted, his voice thankfully sounding more confident than he felt. "I accept".


	35. The Language

"-and he was right there above my bed, a crazed glint in his eyes and a gleaming knife in his hands."

Harry James Potter froze in the portrait entrance of the Gryffindor Tower, as Ron's voice echoed around the common room, Harry quickly spotting the red-haired boy sitting in front of the fire. His jaw clenched at the sight of the crowd of first and second years in front of Ron, all of them hanging onto the redhead's words as he once again told the story of how Sirius Black broke into the Tower.

His hand curling into a fist, Harry turned straight around and climbed back out of the Tower, ignoring the taunts of Sir Cadogan as he stalked away from his least favourite person in the world. Deciding to spend time with someone who actually _wanted_ to be his friend, instead of the loudmouthed attention seeking Ron Weasley, Harry headed for the place he knew Hermione would be without fault on a Friday night after dinner.

The Library…

In no time at all Harry was striding through the aisles to Hermione's 'spot', stepping out into the windowed alcove and smiling fondly at the sight of the bushy-haired girl bent over a book, an essay on the table in front of her. Moving over silently, not wanting to attract Madam Pince's ire for 'walking too loudly', Harry peered over Hermione's shoulder to peer at the almost blank piece of parchment in front of his friend morbidly titled '_The Hand of Death'_.

Suddenly Hermione was pushing her chair back and standing, both of them letting out a yelp as they hit the floor in an ungraceful pile of limbs and chair legs. "Hey Hermione," Harry greeted innocently as she blinked down at him in shock, "Nice trip?"

"Harry!" the brunette Witch blurted, scrambling off him and smoothing her robes down with a scowl on her face, "You brat! What was that for?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry defended as Hermione picked up the chair, looking around guiltily before sliding down into it again. "I was about to say I was here when you stood up," he continued, sitting down beside her and shooting her essay a confused look, "So what's this essay about? It looks complicated."

Hermione shot him a dark look before shaking her head, "Don't try distract me," she scolded knowingly, "It's a Friday night after dinner, what did you do?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry denied simply, trying to smile innocently at his friend before realising doing so wasn't exactly helping his case.

"You should be playing chess with Ron like you do _every_ Friday night," Hermione pointed out, looking strangely relieved to be away from her essay.

"Ron's too busy telling everyone who will listen about Black," Harry confessed softly, looking away from Hermione's face the moment pity flashed across it. "I'm just sick of him I guess. Yeah he was my first friend but he really seems to be more interested in my fame than he does me, look at how he quickly he turned on me when he started getting attention," he added as he picked up Hermione's quill and started twirling it around his fingers.

"Oh Harry," Hermione exhaled softly, "I'm sure everything will get better once things have calmed down, Ron's just a little… excited... that he's getting attention. He'll remember us soon," she assured him.

"I'm not sure if I want him too," Harry admitted quietly as he pulled one of the library books closer and skimmed over it, happy to use it as an excuse to not look up at Hermione.

"You don't mean that Harry," Hermione corrected, "Ron's your best friend."

"First," Harry mumbled, interrupting what he was sure was going to be a lecture about the 'importance of friendship'. "Ron was my first friend. _You're _my best friend," he corrected slowly.

"I'm not your best friend Harry," Hermione argued without hesitating making Harry scowl up at her, the bushy-haired girl freezing at his dark look.

"I think I know who my best friend is Hermione," Harry countered simply. "Yes Ron was my first friend, but he's also lazy, arrogant, and admittedly he's a bit of a bully. I just didn't care, I wanted a friend and I let him continue because I had no one else". He paused and leaned back in his chair, "You didn't befriend me because I'm Harry Potter, you befriended me because you wanted to. You're nice, sweet, you help me with my homework without making me feel like an idiot. I feel like I can tell you anything, and you never turn your back on me," he rambled as he looked away from Hermione again, mentally screaming at himself to shut up before he scared her away.

"Do you mean that Harry?" Hermione whispered softly, Harry's neck and ears burning as he picked up the emotions in her voice.

"Course I do," Harry agreed simply, hoping that she wouldn't cry or try hugging him (He liked her hugs, he really did, but they kind of hurt with how strong she was). "Hey, what does it mean by 'The Hand of Death'?" he asked quickly, changing the subject as he heard her sniffing and saw her wiping at her eyes.

"Hand of Death?" Hermione echoed curiously, "Where does it say that?"

"Uh, on your essay?" Harry corrected as Hermione snatched the book from his hands shiftily, glancing over the titles on the pages.

"Hand of Death?" Hermione repeated once again, blinking at her essay for a moment before turning a frown on him. "What does it say, Harry?" she asked slowly, turning the essay to face him and pointing at the title, "That?"

"Yeah that," Harry agreed, raising an eyebrow at Hermione in confusion, "It says 'The Hand of Death', all scrunched up and on top of each other," he explained as he inspected the strangely written title, shivering slightly as it felt like something ran down his spine. "Like it's got 'The', then below that it's got 'Hand', then below that is 'Of'-"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted suddenly. "You can read that?" she asked cautiously, looking a little nervous.

"Your writing's a little messy, but yeah I can read it," Harry confirmed hesitantly, not liking the way Hermione was staring at him.

"Harry, that's not English," Hermione corrected bluntly, "That's not even _words_. It's a rune, from my Ancient Runes class? And what you were saying," she continued as Harry stared at her in confusion, "You weren't speaking English. You said 'Dew And Lat Abear Lamb'."

Eyebrows furrowing, Harry pulled Hermione's essay closer and squinted at the title, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses as nothing changed. "It's in English," he argued, "It's a little scrunched up, but it's definitely-" he froze as the words blurred suddenly shifting about until he was staring down at four completely different words.

"Harry?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Du andlát abr lam," Harry read aloud, both of them freezing as the candles floating above the table went out suddenly. "Hermione?" he asked nervously as he heard cries of shock and pain echoing through the library.

"_Lumos_."

Jumping at the sudden noise, Harry turned to face a pale-looking Hermione, her wand lighting up the surrounding area. "Are all the lights out?" she whispered quietly, both of them glancing up and down the aisles to see only darkness.

Shivering at the eeriness of it all, Harry stood up and drew his wand, standing on his chair and relighting the table's candles. "I think… I think they are," he agreed, using his vantage point to see across the library, where he could see a couple of bobbing _lumos_ charms attached to various confused students. "Do you think the enchantments on the candles wore out?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," Hermione confessed as he climbed back down, looking a little frightened as her eyes darted between the shadows. "They've never done that befo- _Harry!_" she hissed out suddenly, looking panicked and terrified, "What if it's Black?"

It took Harry a moment to figure out what she meant by Black, but when he did he quickly reached into his shoulderbag and pulled out his invisibility cloak, not hesitating to throw it over the both of them. "I started carrying it with me after he broke into the Tower," he admitted quietly when he caught Hermione's shocked stare, "I thought it was a good idea."

"It is Harry," Hermione said slowly, "I just completely forgot about the cloak. I er… I made a list of ideas you could use to escape Black if he tried again," she added, Harry barely able to see the faint blush on her cheeks in the candlelight.

Not wanting to think about Black, Harry glanced around curiously as he watched light beginning to bloom through the library, people obviously starting to relight the candles. "What d'you think caused them to go out like that?" he murmured slowly, glancing over at Hermione who frowned for a moment before a look of realisation flashed across her face.

"Say it again," Hermione ordered, elbowing him in the side roughly as she pulled off the invisibility cloak, "What you said before. Say it again."

"The Hand of Death?" Harry said obediently, glancing up at the candles which were still lit, shrugging at Hermione when she frowned again.

"Say it differently," she corrected instantly, "Say it in the other language."

Harry faltered for a moment, closing his eyes and concentrating on what he'd said. "Du andlát abr lam," he repeated, opening his eyes slowly to find everything pitch black again. "Did _I_ do that?" he blurted in shock as Hermione recast the _lumos_ charm, cries of shock and annoyance echoing through the library.

"I… I think so," Hermione confessed.

"Du andlát-OW!"

"Stop saying that!" Hermione scolded. "It feels bad, really bad," she explained as she lit her wand again, Harry spotting the pale and drawn look on her face. "Please don't say it again," she begged desperately.

"I promise," he assured her quickly, guilt flooding him as he realised the spell was obviously having a negative effect on Hermione, "I won't say it again. What's it for? I mean you said it was Ancient Runes right?"

"It's our homework, it's due on Monday. I've been trying to figure out what that rune meant _all month_, Harry," Hermione rambled out, rubbing her forearms like she was trying to warm herself up. "Professor Babbling gave us the rune and told us to find out everything we could about it, and no matter where I looked I couldn't find a thing about it!" she exclaimed, sounding frustrated as she glared down at the essay, "I was afraid I was going to have to turn in a blank essay."

"What does it look like? The rune?" Harry asked curiously as Madam Pince materialized from the shadows to flick her wand at the candles above their table, glaring at them as she vanished into the shadows again to continue lighting more.

"It's a triangle," Hermione shrugged, "There's a circle inside it, with a straight line bisecting them both down the middle. I asked Madam Pince and she just laughed at me, then she said that she had been asked not to help us with the assignment, and suggested that I go read a _fairytale_ instead!" she huffed out angrily, crossing her arms with a dark expression.

"Well at least you know what it does now?" Harry offered hesitantly as he shoved his invisibility cloak back into his bag and sat back down, "It's a spell that turns lights off."

"I don't think it is," Hermione corrected faintly with a disappointed look in his direction, "Why would a spell that turns off the lights, translate into 'The Hand of Death'? It doesn't make sense. _Please_ don't say it again Harry, not until we know for certain that turning off the lights is _all_ it does. Please?"

"I already said 'Yes'," Harry defended, "You know I keep my promises. If I say I won't, then I won't."

"You also said you weren't going to do anything stupid during the holidays, and yet who inflated their Aunt?" Hermione countered, making Harry blush and fidget awkwardly.

"She asked for it," he murmured under his breath, clearing his throat as Hermione's eyebrow rose at him. "I said 'I didn't mean to do it'," he lied, "She insulted my parents and I lost control."

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed with an exasperated but fond expression. "Let's go," she decided, "I can do this tomorrow, let's go somewhere else and relax."

"Could we sit by the lake?" Harry asked hopefully, "I'll let you beat me at cards again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, beginning to pack her things quickly as he stretched slowly. "Fine, but we're not playing Snap," she agreed, causing a grin to split Harry's face as he threw his bag over his shoulder and stood.

As Hermione copied him and started towards the aisle, Harry couldn't resist calling after her.

"Shall I get the lights?"

* * *

_Okay, so I don't actually know what this is, but I was writing and it just happened._

_If anyone can recognise the Language then they'll get cookies, and I don't mean just Googling it either. *Suspicious look*._

_ALSO! If you haven't noticed the AN is at the bottom of this chapter. It's just something I'm trailing after my sister starting doing it, it allows you to get straight into the story without the spoilers of reading the AN unless you want to._

**I don't own Harry Potter or _The Language_.**


	36. Uprising

She'd found them…

Professor Umbridge had finally found them…

After seven months of working in secret, Dumbledore's Army had finally been discovered, by the very person it was created to fight.

They weren't ready yet. They were all so very far from ready. Harry doubted they were ready to fight _one_ Death Eater and survive let alone Lord Voldemort himself. And while he knew they would _never_ be ready to fight Voldemort, Harry also knew that the longer they could survive the more likely they could escape.

A soft exhale made him glance up from the struggling Dobby he was holding onto tightly, meeting Hermione's wide fear-blown eyes. "What… what do we do Harry?" she asked weakly, her hands trembling slightly as she and an almost scared Ron exchanged lost glances.

Straightening up slightly as he realised they were both waiting for him, Harry slowly looked around the room at the other frightened faces of the DA. They were all looking to _him_? Why would they be looking to _him_ for guidance? Even Dobby had gone limp in his arms and was looking up at him with trusting eyes.

"Harry?" Hermione asked again, her voice louder in the absolute silence of the Room of Requirement.

He couldn't answer her. He had no idea, he'd stupidly never considered coming up with a course of action in case they were caught. And with Umbridge on her way already, they didn't have time to make one up.

He was just as afraid as they were.

"I can't be expelled," a whispered voice said, making him turn his head to stare at the red-haired girl with tears beginning to stream from her eyes, "I don't have anywhere to go. Hogwarts is my home."

Other voices started to buzz around the room, Harry standing there dumbly as he looked to Hermione, hoping for just the slightest hint of what to do. What he saw however were chocolate brown eyes filling with tears of their own, Hermione clutching at Ron's arm as she stared at the door in fear. "If I get expelled before I take my OWLs they'll erase my memories," she choked out, "How can I protect my parents from Death Eaters if I don't remember anything?"

As a pale Ron pulled Hermione into a hug, Harry's mind went blank. They were going to be expelled. He was going to be sent back to the Dursleys, he was going to be sent away from Hogwarts - his home - to a place he'd rather die than go back to.

He couldn't lose his home.

But…

He already had hadn't he?

Unbidden his hand rose up, and his eyes locked onto the scarred words 'I must not tell lies', carved into the back of his hand. He'd already lost his home, to the Ministry when they'd sent Umbridge to torture and suppress them.

Slowly he looked up again, his fear giving way to a serene calm as he watched the DA panicking. They had looked to him because they trusted him, because he was someone who cared about them, because he was their leader. Determination flooded him as he watched Colin Creevey holding his little brother, Dennis, both of them just standing there crying calming.

Clearing his throat, Harry found his voice, letting out a simple "Quiet," that was swept up in the panicked craze that was taking over the other students.

Growling under his breath, Harry set Dobby down on the floor and forced his way through the crowd towards the door, sending the strongest locking spell he could muster up at it when people started to copy him and rush towards the door.

"QUIET!" he roared, pushing forward until he was standing in front of them all, turning around and fixing a glare on the panicking students.

To his surprise they all obeyed instantly, the room returning to it's previous silence as everyone stopped to stare at him. "Listen to yourselves," he said slowly, marvelling at the way he somehow kept his voice calm and soft. "Look at yourselves. The very mention of Umbridge has reduced us to a crying whimpering mess! You're all whining about how you'll be expelled, and you'll be sent home. But guess what? I don't have a home, I live with abusive muggles, and Hogwarts is ten times the home that they'll ever be," he spat, everyone hanging on his words as he looked over them, even Hermione and Ron having crept around so they were standing with everyone else.

"Hogwarts is my home. And I know I'm not the only one to believe so," he continued slowly, his voice gaining volume as his eyes met those of the redhead from earlier. "We're here every week training to protect ourselves from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. We're training to protect ourselves, our families, and our _homes_. How can we expect to fight for those we love when we can't even fight for ourselves?" he asked them firmly, fighting past the nerves fluttering in his chest as he realised how intently they were listening to him.

"Umbridge has come into _our_ home," he yelled, raising his hand to show the scarring on the back of it. "She has tortured us, she has _abused _us. She controls what we wear, what we eat, and even how we act. And _we let her_!" he exclaimed angrily. "Why should we bother to learn how to protect ourselves when we can't even protect our own _home_?"

"But you know what I say?" Harry demanded. "I say Umbridge has no power over me. I say I won't let _her_ control me!" he shouted as he turned and summoned the Dumbledore's Army list from the wall near the door. "I say I won't fight for Dumbledore," he declared bluntly as he tore the list up without hesitation, "But I say I _will_ fight for my home. For my friends. For my family. For my _freedom_," he paused and looked over the students slowly.

"For Hogwarts," he finished simply, a ripple passing through the crowd at his words. "I say Hogwarts belongs to the students. Not to the Ministry. This is _our_ home! Not theirs!" he shouted as he saw the agreement on everyone's faces. "I say that the Ministry of Magic will do _nothing_ about Umbridge. _They sent her here!_ I say, that if we want Umbridge gone. That we have do it ourselves! I say that we, Hogwarts' Army, rise up! I say that we take back our school! I say we take back our home! For Hogwarts!"

To say he was shocked when everyone burst into applause was an understatement. He hadn't even known he could speak like that, it had all just come flowing from his mouth like he'd had hours of practice.

"Who's with me?" he asked calmly, punching his wand into the air, unable to stop himself from grinning as the entire room copied him and let out a roar.

Harry stood there for a moment, eyes meeting the determined and proud eyes of both Ron and Hermione. "Then let's go!" he ordered, listening to the battle cries echoing from behind him as he turned and threw open the door, leading the charge out into the hallway.

Heading down the hallway with the entirety of the ex-DA at his back, they all came to a faltering stop as Umbridge rounded the corner with the Inquisitorial Squad, all of them freezing as well.

"Hello Professor," Harry greeted politely, stepping out so he was obviously standing in front of the miniature army of students.

"Don't 'Hello Professor' me Potter," Umbridge spat out instantly, pulling her wand out slowly, her smug expression and the tone of her voice disproving her attempt at innocence. "You're little game is over."

"You're right, it is over. We're taking back the school," Harry agreed bluntly, pulling on the adrenaline running through his veins to raise his wand. "_Stupefy_."

As Umbridge's toad-like face was illuminated by a flash of scarlet red, and she was blasted off her feet and down the hallway, Harry felt the first of the metaphorical 'chains' Umbridge had wrapped the school in snapping.

"FOR HOGWARTS!"

* * *

_So this idea's a little rough, I somehow managed to write it in less than an hour, which is saying something with my attention span. The idea just hit me out of nowhere, and I thought "Damn I would love to read a story like this", and since I didn't know what to do next I wrote it._

_If anyone does know of a story that follows this general idea, could you PM me the link? I'd be rather grateful… cookie-giving grateful..._

_**I don't own Harry Potter.**_


	37. Paragon

"DAD! Dad! Harry's got something!"

Harry, who had been on the verge of opening his letter, didn't have time to react as the strange paper was torn from his grasp by his Uncle Vernon. Reaching after it before he could stop himself, Harry flinched back as Vernon raised his fist threatening, causing him to quickly step away from his Uncle.

"That's mine," he said simply, trying to get his voice low so he wasn't punished for shouting in the house again.

"Oh yeah? Who would be writing to _you_?" Uncle Vernon snickered, opening the letter and peering down at it, his face suddenly turning a range of colours that Harry was certain weren't natural. "Pe-petunia!" Uncle Vernon stuttered out, holding the letter out to the horse-faced woman with a shaking hand.

"Oh my goodness," Aunt Petunia exhaled, making a pained croaking noise as she grabbed at her throat in fear, despite having only read a single line.

Already mourning the loss of the letter he knew he was never going to get to read, Harry promised himself that he would slip the next letter he received straight under his cupboard door. That is… if he ever _got_ another letter, that one had been his first letter in ten years. And after all, who would be writing to him?

Dudley reached for the letter suddenly, and Uncle Vernon just held it up out of the fat boy's reach. "I want to read it!" the boy demanded, lashing out with his Smelting stick to twack Uncle Vernon across the face with it, "Now!"

Then, for the first time in Harry's whole life, he saw Dudley get punished. As the boy clutched as his bright red cheek in shock, Uncle Vernon yanked the Smelting stick from his hand and glared down at Dudley before pointing his finger towards the door. "Get out! Both of you get out!" Uncle Vernon ordered, Aunt Petunia collapsing backwards to lean against the bench breathlessly.

"I WANT TO SEE IT!" Dudley yelled, apparently not learning his lesson.

"OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared, launching himself to his feet and reaching for them both, only for the cheerful _DING DONG_ of the doorbell to make them all freeze in place. As Dudley tried again to grab the letter, Uncle Vernon slapped him once more, a large dark handprint appearing on the pig-like boy's face. "Get the door 'Tunia," Uncle Vernon instructed as he turned away from them and snatched up the letter again, "Tell them we're not interested".

As Uncle Vernon began tearing up the letter, Harry started edging towards the doorway, hoping to make it back to his cupboard before his Uncle could look up and take his anger out on him again. Glancing over his shoulder and down the hallway, Harry faltered as the rough-looking brown-haired man at the door sent him a warm smile, Aunt Petunia stepping between the two of them almost instantly with a glare in Harry's direction. Looking between the two of them, Harry wondered where he was supposed to go now, Uncle Vernon's 'suggestions' that he never entered his cupboard when people were watching echoing through his mind. And since he knew he was already in trouble for receiving a letter, the last thing Harry wanted was to get in even more trouble for breaking another rule so soon after.

Aunt Petunia's startled gasp pulled Harry's attention back her way, watching as she stumbled back from the door as the man put something back in the inner pocket of his black trench-coat. "Yo-you can't do that! It's illegal!" the woman shrieked fearfully.

"So we see eye to eye then?" the man agreed simply, staring emotionlessly at her and gesturing past her. "Can I come in now?"

"Fine!" Aunt Petunia spat as she stepped aside and let the man in, watching him warily as he entered the house and looked around. As Harry wondered who this man was, his Aunt swept down the hallway and latched onto his shoulder, dragging him back into the kitchen as the man followed them silently.

"Pet! I was thi- Who the ruddy hell are you?" Uncle Vernon blurted , the walrus man eyeing the man suspiciously.

"I am a man of many names, Vernon Richard Dursley," the man said simply, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down without asking permission. "But you may call me 'Death'".

"Dea- Get out of my house!" Uncle Vernon ordered, "You _Freaks_ aren't welcome here!"

"I am no 'Freak', Vernon," 'Death' corrected simply, "I am an Angel of Death. Now please, take a seat".

"Please listen to him Vernon," Aunt Petunia began quickly, "He-"

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Uncle Vernon roared angrily, interrupting Aunt Petunia who whimpered in response.

Death's lip twitched in amusement, as he reached into his inner pocket and pulled something out, throwing what looked like a photograph onto the table. Being just the right height, Harry caught sight of something white on the photo before Uncle Vernon snatched it up, his eyes widened and his face turning a furious dark red. "I think I should stay, if only to talk about this photograph a little more," Death pointed out simply, "Don't you agree?"

"Wha- What do you want?" Uncle Vernon asked coldly, "You have no right to come into our home and threaten us!"

"And you have no right to abuse a child," Death countered bluntly, "Who do you think the police will arrest? The Angel of Death for trespassing? Or you for child abuse?"

Harry felt himself paling instantly. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both had beat the consequences of telling someone how he was treated into his head. He knew from personal experience, that the charges would be dropped with a snap of their fingers, and that only he would get punished for it.

"The Freak deserves it!" Uncle Vernon roared, "And I will NOT have you telling me how I can and cannot treat his kind!"

"I am Death, Vernon, I will do what I please," Death growled out, the look in his eyes scaring Harry ten times more than an angry Uncle Vernon. "And since Harry is half-Angel, it means that your punishment is delegated to _me_, instead of your Mortal Police," he continued, "Now _sit_".

When Uncle Vernon heaved himself to his feet, Death just sighed and raised his hands, pointing his palms down and pushing towards the floor. A startled squawk escaped both Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's throats as they suddenly collapsed down onto the chairs that had somehow appeared behind them, a simple flick of Death's hands had their chairs dragging forward until they were seated opposite him.

"Harry. Please go pack everything you want to keep," Death requested, not looking away from the Dursleys, "You won't be returning here".

Harry didn't move, his legs frozen in place as he watched Death snapping his fingers, black ropes appearing in a 'puff' of black smoke and snaking themselves around his Aunt and Uncle tightly. "Harry," Death pressed, "Do you have anything you wish to take with you?"

"HE'S NOT GOIN-ERP!"

Uncle Vernon's shouting was cut off by Death snapping his fingers again, a black gag appearing in his Uncle's mouth, reducing his ranting to a muffled droning instead. Harry froze fearfully as Death turned dark blue eyes on him, remembering the question and quickly racking his mind for a moment before shaking his head. "Just my clothes, Sir," he answered nervously.

"You'll be receiving new clothes when we get to your new school," Death dismissed, "Do you have anything you want to keep for… sentimental… reasons?"

His school? What school? Harry was going to Stonewall High wasn't he? His Aunt was already dying his uniform, in fact his uniform was still _being_ dyed in the back garden where the smell couldn't destroy their appetites (Not that Uncle Vernon or Dudley's appetites could be stopped by anything). And did he even _want_ to go? What if the school was worse than the Dursleys were? (As impossible as that seemed). What if he didn't want to go? What if he wanted to go to Stonewall High? (He didn't. But he'd rather go to Stonewall High than to somewhere worse).

"No, Sir," Harry mumbled softly, shaking his head quickly. He opened his mouth to ask a question, snapping it closed as he remembered rule number one, 'Don't ask questions'.

"Ask, Harry," Death instructed, "I will do my best to answer".

"My new school?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself, "And what do you mean I'm 'Half-Angel'? Are you really Death?"

Death's lips twitched up into a fond smile as Harry's hands clapped over his mouth guiltily. "I am merely an _Angel _of Death, a servant, Death itself is not a tangible being like ourselves," the 'man' explained gently. "And when you died, you were destined to become an Angel like myself, however due to uncontrollable events you have already begun the Ascension while remaining alive".

"Why?" Harry asked, flinching back as he realised he had just asked another question.

Death just chuckled, not looking at all angry at him for asking questions. "You died," he admitted bluntly, making Harry flinch again at his matter-of-fact tone of voice. "And since you were dead, your soul automatically began its Ascension. However both your mother's magic and your own worked to resuscitate you, to bring your soul back into your body before it could move on. This changed your destiny, and meant you would not die and Ascend for many more years to come. However your soul had already begun the Ascension, and it could not be undone. So Destiny decreed that you would be a hybrid of your living Wiccan and your undead Death until such a time that you were to die naturally".

Harry stood there staring at Death, trying to wrap his mind around what the 'man' was saying. He wanted to instinctively accuse the man of lying, the Dursley's constant claims of 'Magic isn't real' echoing around his mind, but the things Death had done to the Dursleys proved they were wrong. Another part of him wanted to deny the fact that he was dead, since he was quite obvious alive right now, but then again the man had said his soul had returned to his body hadn't he? Then there was the 'hybrid' part, Harry couldn't be dead _and_ alive at the same time could he? It was impossible wasn't it?

"I can't be a..." Harry denied slowly, thinking rapidly as Death watched him patiently, unsure of what word to use to describe himself. "I don't have any powers," he explained quickly, "And I'm not dead," he added absently.

"Did you not, only a couple of months ago, teleport a piece of glass in and out of place?" Death asked kindly. "As well as speak to the snake behind said piece of glass? What about when you wisped onto the roof of your school when you were seven?" he added slowly.

Harry paused again, his mind racing as he tried to understand what this information meant for him. "This school I'm sending you to," Death began, cutting his thoughts off and pulling Harry's attention back to him, "It is a school for Good magic. A school for Wiccans, for Oracles, and for hybrids such as yourself". Death paused and turned to face Harry properly, "If you agree to attend Magic School, then you will be able to attend as a year-long boarder," he explained softly, "You will never have to return to the Dursleys again".

Harry froze at that, all thoughts of saying no vanishing from his mind. No Dursleys? It was tempting to say yes even if the school _was_ worse than Stonewall, just so he didn't have to come back here ever again. "Will… will I have friends there?" he found himself asking, the look of pity on Death's face making a flash of anger roll through his chest.

"I promise you will," Death began slowly, "And even if you don't, know you have family in myself and the other Angels".

Harry started at Death for a moment longer, his eyes drifting over to his relatives. Aunt Petunia was glaring at him darkly, while Uncle Vernon looked like he was trying to kill him with his eyes. He didn't really have a choice did he? If he said no, then his Uncle would see the promise in his eyes through, whether it was Harry's fault or not. But if he said yes then he'd never have to see his Uncle again, and even if he did then he'd have magic to protect himself with.

Slowly Harry turned back to face Death, "Yes," he decided suddenly, "I'll go".

Death's face broke out into a happy smile, and he held his hand out for Harry to take gingerly. As Harry's hand touched Death's slightly colder skin, the 'man' twisted his hand to hold Harry's properly, "Hold on Harry, we're going for a ride," Death warned before everything exploded into blackness.

* * *

**Paragon**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's The Other School** challenge.

It took me a while to decide on _what_ I wanted Harry to be, but in the end I decided on an half Angel of Death due to the whole 'Master of Death' and Harry's being descended from the Peverells angle.

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed.**


	38. Resurrection

"_**Bone of the father, unwillingly given, you will renew your son!"**_

_**The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.**_

Wormtail turned to face Harry now, pulling a long silver rod from his pocket and approaching him. Placing the tip of the rod against his scar with violently shaking hands, Wormtail stuttered out the next part of whatever twisted ritual Harry was watching.

"Shard of the soul, unknowingly entrusted, you will restore your body!"

Harry felt himself stiffening at Wormtail's words. 'Shard of the soul'? Did that mean there was a sha- a scream escaped Harry's mouth suddenly, cutting off his train of thought as silver light filled his vision and every inch of his body felt like it wanted to just curl into a ball to cry.

A shaky gasp tore itself from his throat as Wormtail pulled the rod away from him, the silver now an eerie black as he carefully carried it over to lower into the cauldron. Harry didn't want to look, but he couldn't help but watch as the blue of the potion instead turned a sick blood-red, the light of it illuminating what felt like the entire graveyard.

Looking even more terrified now, Wormtail pulled another silver object from his robes, this time a sharp looking knife that gleamed wickedly in the red light of the potion. As the rat animagus approached Harry once more, he couldn't help but get the feeling that the 'Heart of Fate's Bitch' was going to be the next ingredient. Not wanting to watch, Harry clamped his eyes shut and turned his head away as he heard Wormtail coming to a halt directly in front of him.

"Blood of the son" Wormtail began slowly, "Undeniably pure, you will revive your father!"

Harry felt his mind coming to a grinding halt at Wormtail's words, 'Blood of the son' repeating itself over and over again in his head. Watching blankly as Wormtail brought the knife down across his arm, Harry felt disbelief and disgust crashing together in his stomach. He couldn't be Voldemort's _son_, it was impossible, it just couldn't be true! Voldemort just be trying to get to him, using psychological warfare like Hermione said he did in the first war.

A low rumbling pulled his mind from it's shock, his eyes being drawn to the blinding white potion in the cauldron as the sparks died out suddenly. Harry watched in horror as white smoke billowed out from the cauldron, spreading out across the ground and filling his vision as he found himself chanting "Let it have drowned" under his breath.

"My wand… Wormtail"

Harry let out a strangled sob as a dark silky drawled out the command, a tall dark figure barely visible through the slowly fading steam. A moaning and whimpering Wormtail scrambled to pull a wand from inside his robes, holding a bone-white wand that almost shone in the moonlight out to the figure, his hand shaking so much Harry thought for a second he would drop it.

The last of the steam faded as the figure waved his wand at himself, conjuring up a pair of simple black trousers and leaving a pale muscular back visible. "I missed you… my sweet" the man whispered, raising his wand and caressing it almost gently as he stepped out of the now empty cauldron and turned to face Harry.

The man in front of him was nothing like Harry expected Lord Voldemort to look like. Looking more like an older version of the Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, than like the monster everyone had made him imagine Voldemort as. Rich black hair sat in wavy almost-curls upon his head, glowing blue eyes slowly inspecting his chest as long fingers mapped out refined cheekbones.

If he wasn't the most feared Dark Lord in all history, he might have actually been attractive.

Pinned limply to the angel statue, Harry was forced to watch helplessly as Voldemort slowly examined his body, an exultant look on his face as he conjured a tight-fitting dress shirt to cover his chest. A second flick of his wand caused shadows to crawl across the ground, jumping up and climbing his body, turning into a long shimmering cloak that only made his face and hands look more pale than before.

"Wormtail" Voldemort exhaled slowly, "Your arm".

Opening bawling, Wormtail crawled towards Voldemort, holding his hand up for the Dark Lord to stare at with disgust and disinterest. "Your other arm" the man corrected coldly, a hand reaching out and gesturing slowly, magically pulling the traitor's left arm towards him. Vanishing the sleeves with a flick of his wand, Voldemort started down at the vivid red skull tattoo with a look bordering glee.

_{__Purity__}_ he said, the hiss coming from his mouth making both Wormtail and Harry cringe in fear. "Let us see... who remains true" the Dark Lord said softly, pressing the tip of his wand to the tattoo on Wormtail's arm, the snake and skull having vanished and been replaced with a large winged serpent instead.

"And you… Harry Potter… my son" Voldemort said suddenly, turning to face Harry, looking every inch a nobleman or Lord with how he dressed and stood. "Are you aware that you stand on the grave of my _pathetic_ muggle father?" he asked slowly, a lazy wave of his wand causing the angel statue to release Harry and let him fall to the ground, his leg giving way under the pain of the Acromantula bite. "I cannot help but wonder how much you _are_ aware of" the Dark Lord continued, blue eyes locked onto Harry's emerald ones. "Raised with muggles, were you not?" he questioned with a grimace, "Treated like a slave from what I've been told".

"Ye- yes Master" Wormtail stuttered out as he crawled over to kiss Voldemort's boots, "I've heard them talk- erp!" he squawked when the Dark Lord kicked him in the face.

"I did not give you permission to speak, Wormtail" Voldemort hissed angrily, a plume of black smoke behind them taking shape into a black-robed figure that instantly dropped to his knees and bowed his head.

"I'm not your son" Harry spat, using the angel statue to climb to his feet and glare at the Dark Lord. "My parents were-".

"Lily and James Potter" Voldemort interrupted as more plumes of smoke formed into more Death Eaters. "My left and right hands respectively. Most trusted of _all_ my followers".

"Ma- Ma- Master?" Wormtail exhaled in confusion, his robes stained with Harry's blood and his face pale with fear.

"Ahhh, you were unaware of this when you betrayed them were you not Wormtail?" Voldemort sneered slowly as Harry gaped at him dumbly. "You had no idea you were betraying me as well when you led my Death Eaters to the Potters did you?"

"You're lying" Harry blurted, hanging onto the statue as blood loss made his head spin. "My parents would never join you".

"Heal him" Voldemort snapped suddenly, snapping his fingers as he completely ignored Harry's words.

Blinking in shock, Harry didn't struggle when one of the black-cloaked Death Eaters stood and rushed over to him, pulling a wand from inside his cloak and running it down Harry's cut arm.

It would be easier for him to escape if he was fully healed, he figured, knowing he needed to get back to Hogwarts so he could warn everyone. As the Death Eater muttered out a second healing spell for his injured leg, Harry timed it right and lashed out, slamming his knee into the man's face before quickly pulling his wand from his hand with a snarled "Stupefy!"

"You're lying" Harry repeated coldly, testing out his leg hesitantly and stepping away from the statue as he raised the stolen wand against Voldemort.

"Pull back his hood" Voldemort ordered simply, gesturing at the Death Eater by Harry's feet. "Go on" he pressed, looking unworried by the wand pointing at him, "We do not have all night after all".

Faltering at Voldemort's current behaviour, having expected Killing Curses and megalomanic speeches, Harry muttered out a banishing charm at the Death Eater's hood, his heart stopping at the familiar face that it revealed. "No…" he mumbled weakly, shaking his head quickly, "It's not him".

"Si-Sirius?" Wormtail exclaimed dumbly, letting out a yelp before going limp as Voldemort threw a bolt of black light at him that sent him flying into a gravestone with a loud crack.

"Sirius Black is one of my most trusted" Voldemort confessed as Harry just stared, his mind blank with shock. "Using my Death Eaters as distractions, as spell fodder, my council and I waged the true war. Politics". Flicking his wand at Sirius and causing the man to gasp awake, Voldemort turned his back on Harry and spread his arms at the other six gathered Death Eaters. "My Council. My friends" he greeted slowly, "My family. Lower your hoods, so I may look upon your faces".

As Harry watched, three faces he didn't recognise were revealed, each of them stepping forward to gently embrace the Dark Lord at his call. The fourth face he saw, was of a man who looked too much like Sirius to be coincidence. The fifth face was Lucius Malfoy, the man lacking his seemingly customary sneer. The sixth person made Harry freeze, his jaw dropping open again.

"Professor Trelawney?" he blurted, making the witch pause and glance at him curiously.

"Relax young Lord" Trelawney suggested slowly, her voice firm as she stood tall and proud in Death Eater robes. "Everything will become apparent in time".

"Indeed it will Sybill" Voldemort agreed gently, "But first… Sirius, care to explain my son's stupidity?" he demanded as he turned a cold glare on Sirius who was still lying on the ground at Harry's feet.

"I never had the chance to talk to him alone my Lord" Sirius called out in response, "Dumbledore blocked me at every turn. He even went as far as to alter the blood wards surrounding Privet Drive to keep everyone but himself out".

"Please tell me I'm dreaming Sirius" Harry exhaled as his Godfather climbed to his feet. "This isn't real. It can't be real. I'm having a nightmare about the Third Task aren't I?"

"I'm sorry Pup. I tried to hint at it through letters, but I couldn't say much until we were face to face" Sirius apologized slowly.

"He's not my Dad" Harry mumbled, clamping his eyes shut as he felt his body beginning to tremble.

"Not by birth" Sirius' voice promised as Harry felt the man's arms engulfing him. "Thomas chose you as his Heir. He performed a blood-adoption. He's your third parent, James is still your father. And I swear, Thomas isn't as bad as he's made out to be. Voldemort is terrible yes, but he's necessary. I promise you'll understand in time".

Harry just shook his head and whimpered, trying his hardest to convince himself that it was just an extremely vivid dream.

"I believe, my son" Voldemort's voice called out, "That perhaps you require proof, that I am not as evil as you would believe? Does this meet your standards?"

Unable to stop himself, Harry opened his eyes and stepped away from Sirius. Nothing could shock him anymore, he felt so numb as it was that he doubted he'd notice getting hit with the Cruciatus curse right now.

"Hello baby".

Blinking slowly at the transparent forms of his parents, Harry just raised a hand to wave it at them, his mouth falling open as his mind went blank.

Huh…

He was wrong…

He _could_ get more shocked…

* * *

**Resurrection**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's The Darker Truth** challenge.

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	39. Angel

"Go to Hogwarts, Harry. You're the only one we can trust with this. You have to fulfil your destiny."

Scowling with his arms crossed, Harry Potter tugged his baseball cap further down, using it to cover his face from any curious eyes peering in the window of his compartment.

"The time has come young Padawan," he said mockingly, "You must face Darth Vader before he returns to full power."

Rolling his eyes, Harry shuffled himself down lower on his seat, kicking his legs out and resting them on the seat opposite. "I don't see why it has to be me," he muttered darkly, "There's no need for me to go back to Hogwarts. I can just vanquish Moldyshort's ass and leave without anyone being the wiser, but no, it's _imperative_ that I act in a manner suited to blending in among the Wizards."

"Just for future reference. You owe me!" Harry yelled, scowling up at the ceiling. "Don't you jingle me!" he blurted as an echoing tinkle echoed in his ears, sitting up to glare properly at the roof. "Condescending asshats," he added under his breath, "Yeah, you were supposed to hear that!" he snapped as he was jingled at again, the tinkling sounding both disappointed and indignant.

He didn't understand _why_ he had to do this. Yeah he got that as the 'Chosen One' he was the only person who could defeat Voldemort, but he didn't understand why he had to go back to Hogwarts to do it. He was easily powerful enough to just pop over to the Dark Lord's lair and zap the evil bastard before anyone could react. There wasn't any point in him attending Hogwarts and pretending to be a Wizard when he could be in and out of the Wizarding world before anyone realised he was still alive.

But no. The all-knowing 'Jedi Council' wanted him to go to Hogwarts and pretend to be a Wizard again.

"Are you still moping? Do you need help scaring the wrackspurts away?"

"I'm not moping," Harry corrected petulantly, refusing to look at Luna as his Charge shut the compartment door behind her. "I'm brooding. I'm allowed to do that."

Luna just hummed noncommittally at him as she settled back down into her seat, as if Harry hadn't magically appeared in her compartment while she'd been in the bathroom (Which he had, by the way). "Do you think they'll serve pumpkin pie for dinner tonight?" Luna asked absently, sticking her nose back into her upside down copy of the Quibbler, "I think tonight's a pumpkin pie for dinner night."

Harry, who was still brooding (In a manly way of course), didn't answer her and instead scowled through the window at the passing landscape. "Oh stop pouting Harry, you'll attract even _more_ wrackspurts and then you'll never be free of them," Luna scolded after a small pause.

"I'm not pouting," Harry denied instantly.

"Yes, you are," Luna argued.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm-" Harry froze as he realised what Luna was trying to do, "-not getting into this with you again."

"Yes, you are," came Luna's absently reply, making Harry glance over and scowl as he realised that his blonde-haired companion wasn't actually paying him an attention.

"I hate you," he muttered, crossing his arms and turning to glare out the window again. (Sandra often accused him of being childish when he did this. He didn't see it though)

"I'll get Daddy to send us some jelly slugs," Luna countered simply.

Harry froze at the young blonde's words, his jaw clenching for a moment before he nodded stiffly. "I forgive you," he decided slowly, "It was a hard thing to do, but I forgive you."

"I'm sure you do," Luna agreed innocently, glancing up to beam at him, her eyes twinkling happily. "There's a nargle by your ear," she added, making him reach up to swat it away without hesitation, "You got it."

Grunting, Harry looked away from Luna and instead turned his attention on his trunk, wondering if he could be bothered climbing up to the luggage rack to get a book out. "Can I be your cousin from America?" he asked suddenly, "I could totally rock blond hair."

Silence answered him for a moment before Luna replied with "No Harry, you couldn't stone blond hair," at the same time as a loud jingle echoed through the compartment.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking between Luna and the ceiling. "Harry Lovegood has a nice ring to it."

"Your skin's too dark for blond hair," Luna corrected as an annoyed jingle sounded, "And your defenses aren't strong enough to ward off the added wrackspurts that having blond hair would draw to you."

"Please?" he added weakly, staring up at the ceiling instead.

When another negative jingle rang in his ears, Harry sighed and sagged down in his seat. "I don't want to go back," he admitted bluntly, "The last time I was at Hogwarts they killed me."

"You look good for a dead person," came an amused response from the doorway, making Harry jump and flail wildly as he realised someone had opened the door without him noticing. "Luna. Did you sign up for ancient runes again this year?" Ginny Weasley asked the innocently smiling blonde, "Mum and Dad couldn't afford to get the supplementary text again."

Still staring at the surprisingly 'grown-up' Ginny in shock, Harry only absently watched as Luna pulled something from her pocket and unshrunk it. "Happy Hogwarts Day," Luna chirped, handing over the book that Harry was assuming was the supplementary text, "Daddy bought me two accidentally."

Luna didn't even need to be his Charge for Harry to know that she was lying. Nor apparently, did she need to be Ginny's Charge, because the look Ginny sent her was a mixture of unhappy, guilty, and grateful. "Well, the twins owe me one after I corrected their potions formula, so I'm going to get them to teach me some powerful anti-theft charms. Hopefully they'll be strong enough to dissuade the nargles from stealing your things again this year," the redhead explained slowly as she and Luna hugged.

"We'll see," Luna agreed simply, as Ginny shot Harry a curious look that had his fingers twitching to pull his cap down over his face further.

"We're almost at Hogwarts by the way, so you two might want to get changed," Ginny said in farewell, breezing out of the compartment with a final quick hug with Luna.

As Luna cast a locking spell on the compartment door, pulling the blind down so she could get changed in peace, Harry returned his attention to the scenery flashing past the window. "I don't know if I can do it," he confessed softly, not knowing what else to say as he listened to the sounds of Luna getting dressed.

"You'll be fine," Luna's muffled voice dismissed, "You've had time to adapt, you've had time to get over it. You're a new Harry Potter now"

"Am I?" Harry countered, "Seeing Ginny again was one thing, but what about Hermione? I don't know if I can see her again," he explained quietly, "And then there's Ron, I know there's no way I could see him and _not_ want to hit him."

"I have faith in you. The Elders wouldn't have sent you if they didn't believe in you," Luna assured him, sitting down opposite him and drawing his attention to her. "And to be honest, I don't see anything wrong with wanting to hit Ron. I'd rather take on a clan of Scabber Demons than watch him eat, it makes me want to hit him too," she added with a shudder.

"Luna. Ron _killed_ me," Harry ground out, "If I hit him, I don't think I can stop."

"I have faith in you," Luna repeated, "You've been my Whitelighter for two years, you've brought me back from the brink more times than I can count. If anyone has the ability to resist the pull of Evil, it's you Harry."

Harry stared at his best friend for a while, emerald green eyes clashing with shining silver owns, before sighing and offering her a guilty smile. "You'll still hold me back?" he asked hopefully, relaxing into his chair slightly.

"I'll hold you back before you even start," Luna promised gently before frowning, "The nargle's back."

Waving his hands in the air wildly, Harry felt his hand being set on fire, a serious case of pins and needles making him yelp and hold his hands against his chest. "Did I get it?" he asked hopefully, making a still frowning Luna nod slowly.

"Are you wearing your necklace?" Luna demanded suspiciously.

"Yes!" Harry confirmed as he rubbed his hand with a pout, reaching into his shirt and pulling out his bottle cap necklace to show her. "And I haven't been anywhere near mistletoe either," he continued when Luna opened her mouth.

"They must be attracted your mood somehow," Luna murmured curiously.

"That's four nargles today though!" he argued in something that was totally not a whine, "My mood isn't _that_ bad!"

Luna's laughter echoed through the compartment, making him pout as she shook her head rapidly. "Harry," she gasped out, "I only have to _think_ about you and you show up. But today you took _two hours_ to show up at the Rook when I called you."

"I didn't hear you," Harry denied stubbornly.

"Harry," Luna pressed slowly, staring at him with piercing steel coloured eyes.

"Luna," Harry countered, raising an eyebrow at her innocently.

They started at each other silently, minutes flying by as Harry challenged Luna's unbeatable patience with his borderline ADHD. "Fine!" he caved, a flicker of a smirk flashing across Luna's face, "But I'm allowed to be in a bad mood! They're forcing me to go back to Hogwarts! I'm a _Whitelighter!_ A Guardian Angel! I'm not supposed to be going to school! Especially not to the school that I was _murdered_ at!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"And they didn't even ask me if I was okay with it either!" he continued, "They never asked if I was okay with going back to the place I died at. They just told me I was expected to fulfil my duty to the Greater Good and told me that they'd set everything up already! What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not okay with being forced to socialize with the person who left me to die?"

"_Are_ you okay with being forced to socialize with the person who left you to die?" Luna interrupted, making Harry stare at her in shock as he tried to figure out whether she was being serious or not.

"Of _course_ I'm fucking not!"

Luna sniffed and picked her copy of the Quibbler back up again, "You hurt my feelings," she declared, "And you cursed. Angels aren't supposed to curse."

"Sorry, I left my halo in my other robes," Harry drawled, biting his lip as he turned to scowl out the window once more. "I'm not going to be nice," he declared in warning, "If I'm going to be forced to do this, then I'm going to do it my way."

"Okay Harry," Luna agreed absently, part of him realising she wasn't listening, but still wanting to complete his dramatic moment.

"Hogwarts is never going to see _this_ coming."

* * *

"Every Headmaster and Headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions must-"

Dolores Umbridge, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor cut off suddenly, a look of anger flashing across her face as she stood before the gathered students. Pulled back to reality by the ending of the boring speech, the students glanced around curiously, a soft buzz filling the air as they whispered to their neighbor in confusion.

"_Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff._

_For now they're bare, and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff."_

As the singing grew louder, the entire Hall went silent, their eyes locked on the Great Hall doors as if waiting for the doors themselves to explain what was going on.

"_So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot."_

Instead of explaining however, the doors were thrown open, a tall brightly dressed teenager walking into the room with a lazy stride. Almost instantly necks started straining, everyone trying to have a look at the singing trespasser, who hadn't seemed to notice them yet as he strode through the doors.

"_Just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn till our brains all-"_

The teenager came to a sudden halt, blinking slowly as he looked around at the staring students. "_Rot,"_ he finished simply, "I'm sorry, I'm not interrupting am I?" the black-haired teen asked slowly as whispers exploded across the Hall. Reaching into the inside pocket of his bright blue hoody, he pulled out an antique looking pocket watch, squinting down at its face for a moment before nodding. "Huh, I'm late. Sorry 'bout that. I'll just grab a seat then."

Everyone watched in stupefied silence as Harry James Potter shoved his hands into his pockets and started strolling gracefully down the central aisle of the Great Hall. Humming loudly, he slid down onto the bench at the end of the Ravenclaw table, flashing the blonde girl beside him a cheeky grin before turning to focus patiently on the speechless Umbridge.

"My apologies, Dolores. Please continue," Harry requested simply, seemingly unaware of the anger, disbelief, and even fear that were spreading across the student body at the sight of him. "Don't let my resurrection distract everyone from your heartwarming speech Professor."

What happened next could only be described in one simple word.

Chaos.

* * *

**Angel**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's Death is only the Beginning** challenge.

Okay, so this is 100% crack. I won't bother to pretend otherwise. If I continued this it'd be full of sarcasm, Luna-isms, and pure uncensored _crack_ (Humor crack, not drug crack or butt crack).

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed.**


	40. Rift

"_**COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"**_

_**But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. "She deserved it" Harry said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me".**_

_**He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. "I'm going" Harry said. "I've had enough".**_

_**And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage tucked under his arm.**_

He was making a mistake.

He knew he was. Running away from the Dursleys was perhaps the biggest mistake he could make right now.

He had nowhere to go. He was alone, in the middle of the night in the Muggle world, with the Aurors on his tail. He had after all, inflated his 'Aunt' some extremely serious magic, which meant that after last year he was definitely expelled.

But… but it didn't matter that he couldn't go home anymore, he didn't care. Privet Drive had never been his home, Hogwarts had been his home since he spent his first Christmas there with Ron. But now… being expelled meant that Harry had nowhere to go, he was stuck outside on the streets with nothing more than the dozen or so wizarding coins he had in the bottom on his trunk.

What about Gringotts? If he could get to the bank, then he'd have access to the rest of his vault, he'd be able to transfer it into a Muggle currency and use that to live under the radar. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn't even contact Hermione or Ron for help, both since the two of them were out of the country and because he didn't want to get them in trouble for aiding a fugitive.

First things first though. He needed to get 'off' the streets, standing out there in the open wasn't very safe for either a thirteen year old boy _or_ for a thirteen year old wizard. Looking around slowly, Harry blinked in shock as he realised how far his feet had been walking while he had been thinking. Shrugging it off, Harry quickly dragged his trunk over to a half-wall that he collapsed onto, throwing his trunk open and beginning to sort through it.

A familiar prickling on the base of his neck made him falter, used to the feeling of being watched after two years of being at Hogwarts as the Boy-Who-Lived. Sliding off the wall and crouching down in front of his trunk, Harry used his new stance to hide the way his hand moved to the pocket his wand was in.

Subtly trying to glance up towards where he could feel the eyes burning into him, Harry caught sight of something small shifting in the bushes. As twin pinpricks of light started shining, Harry felt the tension washing out of his body, exhaling sharply as a shaggy furred dog edged out of the bushes.

"Hey there boy," Harry called out gently, hoping that it was a friendly dog and not a feral stray. "Or girl," he added when the dog wagged in response, only for it to growl and shake its head, "Oh… boy then?" he corrected making it bark happily.

Harry's hand, which had started to lower, quickly rose back up to his wand. He wasn't an expert in dogs, but even he knew that they weren't normally _that_ intelligent. "I don't have any food I'm sorry," he said slowly, not wanting to either spook the smart dog or to alert the animagus.

Letting out a whine, the dog started across the street, keeping its head down as it stopped in the middle of the road and sneezed violently. Barely fighting back a chuckle as the dog continued sneezing, Harry stopped as his magic rose up, wildly rolling about beneath his skin. Groaning as he rubbed at his chest, Harry reached out to close his trunk, sitting down on it and let out a shaky breath.

"I'm fine boy," he forced out as the dog slunk closer with a whine, "I'm just… I haven't been feeling well lately."

'Haven't been feeling well lately'.

What an understatement. Even before Marge had come visit, Harry's magic had been going crazy within him. The temperature would rise when he was angry, actually it would even rise when he was feeling anything strongly. Vernon had woken him up in a rage several times when his nightmares would cause everything not nailed down to start shaking. He had even accidentally started glowing when he had been trying to do an essay on the _Lumos_ spell branch.

Something cold and wet made him jump, staring down at the pathetic looking dog in shock as it nosed at his bare arm again. "You're not really a dog," Harry murmured, concerned grey eyes peering up at him, "Your eyes are too human."

The dog sighed, shaking its head, backing away from Harry slowly. Before the dog could turn back (Or at least Harry hoped he was about to), slapping footsteps filled the air, both of their heads snapping around to where a plump man had burst through the trees and was running as fast as he could. Hand diving back towards his wand again, Harry stood to watch as the dishevelled man sprinted across the park, looking over his shoulder constantly as he let out panicked whimpers.

"YOU!"

He jumped as the man spotted him and cried out in joy, changing his direction and heading towards the nervously backpedalling Harry. "Please! You can't let them get me!" the man begged, stumbling over the half-wall and diving at him, grabbing Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "They're trying to kill me!" the man continued, tears streaming down his face, "Please help me! I don't want to die!"

Harry just spluttered, so startled by the man's actions that he stood there dumbly as the man sobbed. "NO! It's them! Please don't let them hurt me!" the man screamed suddenly, unashamedly ducking behind Harry who blinked in confusion at the two armed muggles running towards them.

"Kid! Run!" the man in the trenchcoat shouted as the man behind Harry whimpered and clutched at his clothes.

As the dog jumped in front of Harry, growling darkly at the two muggles holding guns, Harry wondered briefly about why it was always _him_ that got mixed up in these kinds of situations.

"Come on kid," the woman ordered as they slowed to a stop, their guns moving constantly as they tried to see past him to the man. "We're police," the woman continued, her Welsh accent obvious through her light panting, "That man's resisting arrest. Please step aside."

"Prove it," Harry ordered quickly, sounding braver than he felt as he stared them down, his hand slipping behind his back to pull out his wand.

"Of course," the Welsh woman said quickly, reaching down to pull a leather id case that she flipped open. "I'm Lieutenant Cooper. This is Captain Harkness," she introduced as she showed him the badge, "We're Torchwood," she explained, the man letting out a particularly loud whimper.

As Harry's fingers curled around his wand, his mind raced. He could step aside and let this 'Torchwood' take the man, despite the fact that they had lied about being police. Or he could stay in the way, most likely getting either arrested for obstruction of justice or just plain shot by them.

"Tosh?" 'Captain Harkness' asked suddenly, his hand rising to his ear with a confused expression on his face.

Harry's attention was pulled from them down to the dog in front of him as he sneezed, the growling starting up again, this time aimed towards the man behind him. "Hey!" he hissed, "Shut up boy."

"It's okay Tosh," Harkness announced, making Harry glance up to see the man's eyes locked onto Harry's wand which he was still holding at his side. "I know what the source is. It'll be fine."

"Jack?" Cooper asked curiously as the man behind Harry started up a chant of 'Don't let them get me'.

"Do you know what you're protecting Kid?" Harkness asked slowly, a knowing expression on his face as he stared at Harry. "He's a Raxacoricofallapatorian. A carnivorous species of alien that like coming to Earth to hunt and kill Humans. Torchwood has been following this guy for around a month now, he's killed dozens of people and if you help him escape, then he'll just kill you and then he'll go kill more innocent people."

Harry stared at the man in shock, his jaw falling open as he tried to process what he was saying. The chubby, sweaty, sobbing man behind him… was an alien. But not just any type of alien, he was also a carnivorous one. An alien… right…

"An alien… right. What is he going to do? Probe me and then cut my head off with his lightsaber?" he asked sarcastically. "You're insane, all of yo-" he was cut off by pain flaring up in his chest, his magic beginning to burn through his body again.

"What is it with you people and probing?" Harkness muttered, "Just accept you want a dick up your arse and move along". As Cooper tried not to giggle, Harry shook his head and kicked out at the still growling dog with a snapped order to shut up. "See? Your dog smells something is wrong," Harkness pointed out, "And people like you -" he paused to shoot Harry's wand a pointed look "- Taste all the bit sweeter to people like him."

Both of their guns snapped up again, making Harry straighten his back from where he had been slouching slightly. "Kid," Cooper exhaled slowly as a blue light started shining from somewhere behind Harry, "Move". Before he could however, his magic was rolling up inside him, crashing about like the ocean during a storm. Biting back a pained whimper, Harry fell forward to one knee, feeling like he both wanted to explode and implode at the same time.

Through the gap between his arm and his body, Harry watched as the lower half of the man's body was torn apart, revealing two short legs and a large fat stomach. "Oh," he exhaled dumbly, his body still paralyzed by his own magic, as the creature straightened up to it's full size and unsheathed six large sharp-looking claws.

Moving before Harry could react, one of the claws speared through his shoulder as the clawed hand latched onto his shoulder and yanked him off his feet and into the creature's stomach-chest. "You will let me go, Torchwood," the creature hissed in a babyish voice, "Or my nest-mates will tear this town apart, and I'll tear this boy limb from limb."

"Let the kid go Raxacoricofallapatorian," Harkness ordered coldly, as Harry's hand opened and clenched, wishing he hadn't dropped his wand when the creature had unveiled itself. "We won't hesitate to put a bullet through your brain otherwise."

"Let me go Torchwood," the creature repeated as Harry found himself being lifted off the ground, a pained whimper being torn from his throat as more pressure was put on his shoulder. "Or watch him die."

"Kid," Harkness' voice called out, cutting straight through the combined pain of his rebellious magic and of his skewered shoulder. "Torchwood occasionally deals with the Unspeakables. If I give the word they'll write off any breaking of the Statute of Secrecy as necessary for self-defence and you won't get in any trouble for it."

"Jack?" Cooper's voice asked sounding confusion as Harry's mind translated what he had said.

Harkness knew about magic. And apparently he was capable of getting Harry out of trouble for breaking the Decree for Underage Sorcery. But why would he be telling Harry about that unless… unless he needed Harry to get out of the way using magic.

"Three seconds before the boy dies," the Raxa-something holding Harry snarled out.

Closing his eyes, Harry concentrated on his magic. He may not have his wand anymore, but he did have his magic, and as Aunt Marge proved he didn't need his wand to perform magic. All Harry needed was to egg his magic on enough to induce some more accidental magic, hopefully the kind of accidental magic that wouldn't end in him dying slowly and horrifically.

"Three."

His magic had been crazy recently, why wasn't it reacting now? He was definitely feeling more emotional than he was back at the Dursley's!

"Two."

Was the temperature rising or was he just imagining it?

"One."

Come on magic. Inflate it. Shrink it! Set it on fire! Just do _something_!

"Zero."

Pain shot through Harry's body as he was jerked forward and then back again, his mouth falling open in shock as his head dropped down to stare at the blood-coated claws sticking through his stomach. As he the alien behind him cackled like a stereotypical muggle witch, Harry was only able to stare down at the claws, his mind blank and his magic finally silent within him.

When the alien finished giggled, Harry heard the word "What," from behind him, before his magic was surging up and exploding through his skin seconds later.

* * *

**Rift**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's Out of this World** challenge.

Forgive me Fanfiction… I just did a thing...

**I don't own Harry Potter or Torchwood.**


	41. Bloodlust

"Did you actually believe? Or are you truly naive enough to think, that children stood a chance against us?"

As Lucius Malfoy slowly strutted towards Harry, Hermione bit back a whimper of pain, Dolohov's fist tightening in her hair, his wand digging into her jaw alongside her own.

She should have known better. She knew it was a trap, she had told Harry as such, yet her best friend had still stubbornly insisted on going. If only she had argued harder, made more of an effort to convince him to try contact the Order, then they wouldn't be in this mess.

Now they were going to die and it would be her fault.

There was no way that they could win this. All of them bar Harry had been disarmed and had a wand against their throats. And despite how powerful and talented her best friend was, there was no way that he could take on all of the Death Eaters at once and win.

"I'll make this simple for you, Potter," Malfoy continued as he turned to face Harry, standing between him and the giant archway, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he held out his hand. "Give me the prophecy now," he ordered coldly, "Or watch your friends die".

Hermione watched as Harry glanced around the room, slowly meeting their eyes with his own emerald orbs. When he reached her she gently jerked her head to the side, making the smallest of movements towards the door as her scalp screamed at her in protest.

As Harry narrowed his eyes at her, she hoped that he had caught her non-verbal plea for him to take the prophecy and run. The Death Eaters would kill them if he did, but if Harry gave them the prophecy then they'd all be killed anyway. Dolohov yanked roughly on her hair as Hermione tried to gesture with her head again, bringing tears to her eyes as the Death Eater hissed angrily in her ear.

Anger flashed through Harry's eyes for a moment before he dropped his head down to stare at the prophecy, the white-blue mist within it swirling and pulsing brightly, the black-haired boy's face illuminated eerily as the sphere bathed his face in light.

"Yes," Malfoy exhaled calmly, as Hermione watched the emotions flashing across Harry's face. "Yes that's it. Give it to me Potter".

The first sign for Hermione - who knew Harry well enough to memorize his tells - that something was wrong, was the way the stiffness just rolled out of Harry's body and he relaxed. The second sign that something was wrong, was the way she saw the side of his lip twitching as his fingers tightened and loosened around the glowing prophecy. The third sign, the one that everyone in the room caught, was the way that Harry just held out the prophecy orb with a bored "Alright".

The look of shock on Malfoy's face was mirrored by everyone around the room, the blond man hesitantly stretching his hand out for the prophecy, looking like he was waiting for Harry to try something. When Harry continued holding it out expectantly, Malfoy plucked the prophecy from his hand, and smirked victoriously down at it.

"This is a clever little trap, Malfoy," Harry began simply, Hermione's eyes widening as she recognised Harry's 'I know something you don't know' voice. "It's just didn't anyone ever tell you?" he asked as his head remained angled towards the ground. "There's one thing you never put in a trap: if you're smart, if you value your continued existence," he explained slowly, his voice light and calm as Hermione saw the small silver knife that slowly was lowered from Harry's sleeve and into his hand. "If you have any plans of seeing tomorrow," he continued as he finally looked up at the suspicious looking Malfoy, "There's one thing you never, _ever_ put in a trap".

"And what would _that_ be, Potter?" Malfoy demanded rudely even as Hermione's mind clicked as to why what Harry was saying was so familiar.

"Me," Harry deadpanned, launching himself at Malfoy, driving the silver knife into the man's eye even as Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Twisting on the spot, Harry tore the knife out of Malfoy's eye and slashed his hand through the air, a geyser of blood exploding from the blond's eye-socket and following the movement of Harry's hand as he whipped it around to stab in Hermione's direction.

In almost slow motion, Hermione watched as the unnaturally glowing blood shot towards her, clumping together and crystallizing into a thick shining spear as the words "_Accio Hermione_" echoed through her ears. A flash of light ripped her from Dolohov's arms and threw her to the floor, the dark red crystal fling over her head seconds later, followed almost instantly with sickening sound of the spear entering the Death Eater's body.

Faster than Hermione thought possible, Harry was spinning around and hurling a 'knife' of crystallized blood into another Death Eater's skull, even as a flash of light from his wand summoned Luna from their hands. Green light made her throw herself to the ground, rolling over in time to see the brilliant acid-green of the Killing Curse striking Harry in the chest.

Bellatrix Lestrange let out a shrieking laugh as she tilted her head back, Hermione's jaw dropping as Harry just shrugged off the effects of the Killing Curse and raised his own wand, pointing it at Bellatrix as the Witch cackled.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

The maniacal grin was frozen on Bellatrix's face as the Killing Curse struck her dead on, the Dark Witch slowly toppling over to hit the ground limply. Barely casting Bellatrix a second look, Harry turned to point his hand at another Death Eater, a flash of blood-red magic causing his head to explode. Casting another quick spell at the now headless Death Eater, Harry turned to face the final Death Eater who looked like he was a step away from fainting.

Lashing out before the Death Eater could do anything, Harry threw his blood at the man, snorting in amusement as the Death Eater burst into a whirlwind of black smoke just in time to avoid the jagged spear. A warning caught in Hermione's throat as the Death Eater appeared behind Harry, his wand aiming directly at Harry's back as the word "_AVADA_!" flew from his mouth. The spell went unfinished however, as Harry twisted gracefully and his palm slammed into the forehead of the Death Eater who let out a shocked choking sound in response.

"That wasn't very nice," Harry deadpanned, a smirk tugging at his lips as he slowly and purposely pulling his hand away from the Death Eater's forehead, causing the man to start gagging and trembling.

Picking herself up from the floor, Hermione nervously stepped forward, not liking the look on Harry's face as he stared at the Death Eater. Opening her mouth to call his name, a strangled gasp escaped instead as blood began pouring out of the Death Eater's open mouth, floating through the air and beginning to hover around Harry's hand.

When blood started draining out of the Death Eater's nose, ears, and eyes, Hermione's hands clapped up over her mouth, the urge to vomit only being held back by her horror. How could Harry be doing this? How could Harry be _enjoying_ this? The look on Harry's face was clear, it reminded her of a tamer Bellatrix Lestrange's, only Harry still thankfully lacked the utter insanity that made Bellatrix Lestrange Voldemort's right-hand woman.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed Hermione's arm, making her jump and raise her wand to curse her assailant. "Ssh!" Ron hissed as he snatched her wand from her hand, dragging her behind a rock where the other three teenagers were hiding. "We need to get out of here," the redhead whispered, Hermione unable to take her eyes away from the sight of Harry draining the Death Eater. "That's Blood Magic… _Dark_ magic".

Hermione tore her eyes away from Harry to stare at Ron in shock. Harry couldn't be Dark… not Harry. He was too kind, too loving. He had nothing against Muggleborn either, in fact Harry was more for equality than she was. But… Harry was clearly using Blood Magic… and he was obviously enjoying it.

"Start draining the others," Harry's voice rang out, making the five of them stop and stare at the black-haired boy, the swirling sphere of blood hovering between his hands making Hermione want to vomit again. "If their blood isn't drained before their life-force fades then _you'll_ be the sacrifice in their place," the teenager added warningly, levitating the blood over to the archway and beginning to chant in an unfamiliar language.

As the haunting language sent shivers down Hermione's spine, she bit back a whimper and clutched at Ron's arm when men and women appeared with dark shimmers, all of them wearing the same silver and black cloaks. Obediently following Ron as he tugged her back to the wall and away from the hooded people, Hermione watched in growing horror as the wizards and witches with blood-red trims on their cloaks gathered around the dead Death Eaters, chanting in the same language as Harry had been speaking as they held their hands over the corpses.

"I trust you didn't have any trouble getting in?" Harry's voice asked, pulling Hermione's attention over to where Harry had stepped away from the archway, the ball of blood now orbiting the black stone.

"If six teenagers can get in," a familiar voice began, "Then I doubt I'd have any trouble," Sirius continued as he appeared with a smirk.

"Then you have the Stone?" Harry demanded, his voice dripping with an expectant undertone as the silver-black robed Sirius climbed the dias to where Harry was standing.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," the dog animagus deadpanned, pulling a large red crystal from his pocket and depositing it into Harry's hand. "One Philosopher's Stone, just as ordered. Ol' Nicky's office wasn't designed to keep _me_ out".

A Philosopher's Stone? Why would Harry need a Philosopher's Stone? And what was going on here? What was Harry doing? Why was Sirius here? Who were these people? And what were they doing with the spheres of blood that they were now setting up around the archway? Hermione had never felt so lost in her life, not even while searching for information on the Philosopher's Stone in first year, or the basilisk in second year had she been this out of the loop.

"We need to get out of here," Ron said softly from behind her, "We need to tell someone, Dumbledore maybe, he'll know what to do. He'll know how to fix Harry".

"Harry doesn't need to be fixed," Hermione countered angrily, still denying the possibility that Harry could be Dark.

"I swear to Merlin, Sirius," Harry's voice rang out darkly, "If you fuck this up, you won't have a soul to burn in hell".

"We need to get out of here," Ron repeated nervously, tugging on her arm and beginning to lead them around the edges of the room and towards the door.

This time Hermione allowed it to happen, the tone of her best friend's voice leaving her unable to deny that _something _was wrong. As they circled around the room, Hermione kept a close eye on the archway in the center, watching as the 'Blood Mages' drained the Death Eaters of blood which they set in orbit of the archway for some reason. Quickly she realised they were preparing for a ritual, a deep feeling of horror forming in her stomach as she couldn't help but wonder what it was for, her mind coming up with worse and worse ideas.

"Excuse me? But where do you think you're going?"

Biting back a startled scream, Hermione's head snapped back around to where Harry was casually leaning against the wall in front of them, all five of them coming to a sudden halt as they eyed the smirking Wizard cautiously.

"You can't leave now," Harry continued slowly, "You don't want to miss the show, do you?"

"Get out of our way!" Ron yelled from beside Hermione, pulling her attention away from her fearful study of Harry's face. "We're leaving, and you're not going to stop us!"

What little sanity Hermione had found in her friend's eyes vanished as his hand snapped up and clenched into a fist, Ron letting out a choking noise from beside her as he fell to his knees and clawed at his throat. As Ron's face turned a dangerous red, a dark smirk spread across Harry's one, the twinkle appearing in his eyes looking like an evil mockery of Professor Dumbledore's own.

"Harry!" she blurted, "Stop!"

A look of confusion flashed across Harry's face, realisation following it as he opened his hand and Ron gasped for air. "My apologies," the black-haired teen murmured slowly, frustration filling his voice, "Blood Magic does tend to bring out my dark side and lessen my hold on my sanity, it's taking longer than I expected to accustom to it".

Shocked by Harry's apology, Hermione's mind went blank for a moment, unable to link the almost guilty comment to his previous cruel expression.

"Why?"

Harry's eyes snapped past her to where Neville was stepping up beside her, Hermione watching as Neville raised his jaw bravely to stare down Harry. "Why are you doing this? Why are you using _Blood Magic_?" the boy paused for a moment to take a deep breath, "What did you do to my friend?"

"I'm still your friend, Neville," Harry assured him softly, once more majorly contrasting to his previous bloodthirsty state. "And I have a _very_ good explanation for all this," he added, gesturing towards the black archway and the impending ritual.

Silence reigned between then for a moment before Ron's angry voice rasped out, "WELL?", making Harry blink in confusion before raising an eyebrow at them.

"Well what?"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione exclaimed, feeling her already frayed emotions snapping, "I _WILL_ HEX YOU!"

"Fine, fine. I'm about to take place in an extremely dangerous ritual to resurrect the most powerful Blood Mage and Necromancer of all time," Harry explained simply, a proud look on his face. "Then together, we will rise up and destroy this corrupt Ministry and enforce a policy of total equality between all races and rebuild the magical world in our image".

Hermione stared at Harry for a moment, unable to formulate a response to his serious answer. When none of the five reacted to his explanation, Harry just blinked at them a bit more before spreading his arms.

"Surprise!"

* * *

**Bloodlust**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's The Dark Apprentice** challenge.

So I keep getting ready to post it and then wussing out because I think it's a pathetic excuse for a Dark Harry story… I could do so much better than _this_.

This, by the way, is self-punishment for giving into _that_ side of me and playing around with a Mass Effect OC-Insert. I'm ashamed of myself… :'(

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	42. Darken the Skies

Harry Potter was cold…

There was a cold breeze coming in under the door to his cupboard, a cold breeze that penetrated his threadbare blanket and reached all the way into his chest and gripped his heart.

Shivering weakly, Harry curled up tighter, trying to bury himself even deeper beneath his pile of over-sized second hand clothing. It was his only hope of keeping the feeling in his limbs, he didn't want to have the wait the two - three weeks it normally took for the cold to finally leave his bones, so it meant that he needed to stay as warm as he could.

Jamming his fingers into his armpits as they started tingling, Harry tucked his toes up further, listening to the quiet humming of the small portable air cooler that Dudley had 'accidentally' left on and facing his cupboard. His Uncle and Aunt however had left it there intentionally, both of them having verbalized their annoyance of wasting the power, only to quieten down after Dudley told them he wanted to 'punish the freak'.

As a violent tremor wracked his body, Harry clamped his eyes shut and wished. He wished for something, for _anything_ to happen to help him.

After the glass had vanished at the zoo and he'd been banished to his cupboard, Harry had had a lot of time to think. Glass didn't just vanish like that. And since his Uncle had pelted him across the back for using his 'freakishness' in public, it meant that Harry had apparently been responsible.

Magic…

It was the only explanation that Harry could think of. Strange things had always happened around him, from the substitute teacher's hair turning blue, to somehow 'jumping' from the ground up onto the school roof. And every time these strange things happened, Harry was always beaten for his freakishness and sent to his cupboard without food.

And while he was certain that most people wouldn't instantly assume 'Magic', there had to be a reason his Uncle would hit even _Dudley_ for saying that word (Although Harry was also punished for Dudley saying 'Magic').

So if he was right. If he really had magical powers. Then why couldn't he use them to save himself? What good was having magic, if he couldn't use it to protect himself from his abusive (And yes, he knew he was abused. He was ten, not an idiot) relatives?

He knew what he'd do with his magic if he could get it to work. He'd open his cupboard door, sneak out of the house, and turn into a bird and fly away! He'd read an old fairy tale about a woman who could do that, unfortunately when he'd returned to the school library to try read it again, he'd found it missing and had never been able to find it since. But even if he couldn't do all that without practice, (Which Harry assumed he'd need a lot of), he'd be happy enough with his magic just turning off the cooler before he froze to death.

As the cold started to bother him less, Harry released that despite having all the blankets and clothes he owned piled on top of him, he was only getting colder and colder. It was already happening, he was going to get so cold that he'd sleep for a couple of days before waking up again, like his body was hibernating to protect itself.

And then suddenly, as if that revelation had been the tipping point, Harry could feel a strange energy beginning to hum in his chest.

His eyes snapping open as the humming began to move through his body, Harry rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of his cupboard, concentrating on the feeling of his magic… his _magic_… as it left goosebumps in its wake. He could still hear the humming of the cooler outside his cupboard, as instead of turning it off, Harry's magic instead focused its attention on heating him up and warming him from the inside out. Either that or the warmth flooding him was caused by the victorious sensation he could feel tugging at his lips, the knowledge that he'd been able to successfully tap into his magic - knowingly even if not intentionally - more than making up for being confined to his cupboard for the foreseeable future.

As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling with an almost painful grin on his face, Harry faltered as he noticed something else was happening. His cupboard was getting lighter, the darkness fading away - _no…_ the darkness wasn't fading… it was _moving_.

Harry watched silently as the shadows of his cupboard 'crawled' along the walls and into the darkest corner, which looked like it was a living writhing mass of black, the rest of the cupboard 'losing' the darkness that plagued it. Either that or his eyes were somehow adapting to see perfectly in the night, as the light he could see slipping in through the cracks of his cupboard door seemed to burn his eyes painfully when he looked at it.

Stillness made Harry freeze, flinching away from the light and turning to face the _huge_ mass of darkness as it started warping and bending. Suddenly the shadows lashed out, a long limb latching onto the cupboard shelf beside Harry's head, making him swallow nervously as he caught sight of the claws on the limb's hand the size of Harry's entire hand. Another arm reached out of the shadows, and Harry watched as something began to pull itself out of the black mass, long limbs being forced up to its body as it tried and failed to stretch out across the cupboard.

Slowly, the human-shaped shadow's head lowered down to hover in front of his own, tilting curiously as Harry got the impression it was waiting for something.

"Open the door," Harry ordered slowly, just _knowing_ that the shadow was waiting for instructions. "Open the door and let me out."

The Shadow's head bowed low for a moment before the creature moved towards the door and liquidized, melting into a puddle of darkness that slipped out the cracks in the door and vanished. Harry sat there for a moment, the brief thought that he'd been left behind flickering through his mind, before the cupboard door let out an echoing '_click_' as he heard the sound of the cooler turning off.

Reaching out, Harry pushed the door open, his eyes widening as he watched it swinging open at his touch. Not hesitating to climb out of his cupboard, Harry looked around for the Shadow for a moment, wondering absently if it would still be there or if it would vanish the moment it'd done what he'd ordered it to do.

Shaking it off as his stomach rumbled, Harry snuck into the kitchen and headed straight towards the pantry. He knew his Aunt and Uncle wouldn't think twice about the disappearance of some food, not when they all knew that Dudley liked to come downstairs for a midnight (And 1 o'clock, 2 o'clock, etc) snack. And Dudley was too stupid to remember whether or not he'd come down to pig out, which meant that Harry could once again get away with preventing himself from starving under his relative's 'one meal a day' rule, like he had before he'd been caught and the lock had been installed on his cupboard door.

Opening the pantry, Harry froze as he stared at its interior, everything inside it black and white. Rubbing his eyes quickly, he looked around the kitchen, his mouth falling open in shock as he realised that almost _everything_ he could see was in black and white. His eyes falling onto a patch of colour coming in from the hallway, Harry darted forward and peered down at the lamp he could see at the base of the stairs.

Moving forward, Harry faltered as he realised what was wrong with his eyes. It was the shadows… everywhere that wasn't lit up by the lamp was in black and and white. He was somehow able to see in the dark, able to see everything that would have been nearly pitch black before. Glancing towards his cupboard, Harry's suspicion was proven true as he noticed how bright it looked inside.

Turning back towards the kitchen, Harry froze as he came face to face with the Shadow, his breath hitching as its face hovered right in front of his own. Unlike the shadows cast by the lamp, the Shadow wasn't in black and white, instead looking as black as the interior of his cupboard had been. The two of them staring at each other silently for a moment, Harry jumped in shock as the Shadow was suddenly gone, making him spin around to see it crawling across the ceiling.

As he watched, the Shadow slipped down the wall and paused in front of the lamp, still looking like a mass of living darkness despite the light shining on it. Pulling a clawed hand back, Harry didn't have time to react before the sound of shattering glass filled the air, the Shadow destroying the light and plunging the room back into black and white darkness. The Shadow vanished as quickly as it had appeared again, and movement made Harry turn to stare as it pulled itself out of the dark grey pantry, tilting its head at him expectantly.

Snapping out of his shock, Harry quickly hurried to the pantry. He needed to at least grab _something_ to eat before his Uncle came downstairs to investigate the noise. Reaching up for a box of crackers that was just out of his reach, Harry watched as the shadow of his hand (Which was the same pure black as the Shadow) stretched out to grab the crackers, lifting them up and bringing them back to his hand.

Looking between his hand and the shelf in shock, he reached out and concentrated on another box of crackers, watching as his shadow leapt to obey and snatched them off the shelf for him. Standing there for a moment as he wondered what kind of magic this was, Harry held the boxes to his chest and scurried back to his cupboard as he heard the sound of his Uncle's weight landing on the floor.

Quietly closing the door to his cupboard, the thought had barely crossed Harry's mind before he heard the lock sliding back into place, the Shadow melting through the cracks in the door and reforming in front of him as he hid the crackers.

Lying there quietly as he heard his Uncle heading down the hallway, Harry refused to pull his eyes from the Shadow's smooth face as it lay opposite him, staring back into his soul. This wasn't normal magic was it? Shouldn't he have a magic wand or something? And use it to turn people into toads and make things levitate? Instead of controlling the shadows? Or was that only something from stories? He'd heard of people called 'Elementals' in stories, people who could manipulate the elements, could he be one of those? No… he couldn't be… there was nothing 'element-y' in making glass vanish, or in teleporting, or in turning someone's hair blue.

But either way… it didn't matter to him what type of magic it was.

As far as Harry was concerned, all that mattered to him was the fact that _he could do magic_. And he could do it easily… he felt like he could wave his hand right then, and the shadows would obey his every thought.

The sound of Uncle Vernon cursing loudly, apparently having stepped on the shattered light, caught Harry's attention and made him shrink back. Magic or not… his Uncle and Aunt weren't going to accept _any_ 'freakishness' from him, meaning that even though he had magic, it wasn't going to be of any use where it mattered.

Except…

Except if Dudley wanted something done, he demanded it, and if that didn't work then he threw a tantrum.

Harry wasn't the kind of ten year old who threw tantrums, that had been beaten out of him years ago. But if he has both his shadows and _the Shadow_ to help him, maybe he could be the one to demand something this time? Uncle Vernon had always said, that if he wanted something done, then he would always have to do it himself. (He'd said it to Dudley, not to him. But it seemed like Harry was the only one who learnt anything from that).

So if Harry wanted the Dursleys to stop treating him like a freak and abusing him, then he'd simply have to make them. And his Uncle or Aunt wouldn't be able to stop him, because now he's got the power to make himself heard.

Things were about to change in the Dursley household.

And Harry couldn't wait…

* * *

**Darken the Skies**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's Elemental Harry **challenge.

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	43. Mischief

Albus Dumbledore wasn't a stupid man by any standards.

It may be true that at times he _was_ a forgetful one, but there was no one who could honestly state under veritaserum that he was a stupid one.

A person didn't get to be the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the British Representative to the International Council of Wizards, _and_ the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry unless they were truly a remarkable person. (Or at least that's what Albus was often told by wide-eyed Witches and Wizards).

Nor would they have a Mastery in Transfiguration if they were a simple-minded one. Transfiguration was an art that worked off one's imagination after all, if someone cannot picture the end product, then they'll end up with a pink table that oinks whenever someone surprises it.

And these two traits, his intelligence and his ability to look at the bigger picture, were all he needed to see that the plan he was being presented with was _not_ going to work.

Not of course, that the one who came up with the plan, saw things his way.

"This is our decision Albus!" James Potter argued, "Lily and I have been thinking about this since Harry was born. This is our choice, and we're making it. It's just not safe for him anymore, Parkinson also got Mike because of him!"

"But Petunia?" Albus pressed urgently, "I remember, Lily, when you would refuse to go home for the holidays because of the abuse Petunia put upon you for being a Witch! How can you truly believe that she would look after Harry properly!"

"Harry is a squib Albus," Lily Potter denied calmly, not looking at all bothered by the memories, "Petunia will understand that he's not one of us."

Albus couldn't stop his eyebrows from raising at that claim. "As I recall, _you_ are behind the most recent 'Squib Equality Law' that just got passed in the Wizengamot. Were you not?" he asked pointedly, watching as Lily flinched at the barely veiled jab. "In fact, you were rather insistent that 'abandoning' Squib children should be illegal, or did you forget that part?" he added simply, making her flinch again.

"Enough!" James snapped angrily, both of the Potters now glaring at Albus darkly, as if it were his fault they were planning on abandoning one of their sons. "I will not say it again. Harry is our son, and it is _our_ decision."

"And we are _not_ abandoning Harry," Lily added with a sniff, "We're sending him to live with my sister for very good reasons. As a squib he'll need to live close to muggle commodities, like his school and friends, and Potter Manor is just too far away. We _will_ be visiting him, and he will very much remain our son."

Albus just sighed, leaning back in his chair as he hid the feeling of dread that rose up inside him. He didn't need to be a legilimens to know they were lying, he still remembered comforting Lily when the redhead discovered she was pregnant from an alcohol-fueled incident after she and James broke off their engagement.

They'd had an argument, and it had led them to wonder if they were getting married too quickly. The argument resulting from _that_ thought had split them up for three months before they realised that they loved each other too much, and that with the war raging they never knew when they'd have the time otherwise. Lily's friends from her year at Hogwarts had dragged her to a club in an effort to cheer her up, and instead she'd gotten completely drunk and had gone home with another man, not realising the unexpected consequences of that night until she began throwing up.

James had blamed himself surprisingly. He had believed that it was _his_ fault, and had sworn to treat the child as their own. And he had kept his word too, Albus recalled the love and adoration on James' face as he felt baby Harry, the emotions not faltering even when Harry's 'Irish Twin' Michael Potter had been born less than twelve months later.

But now? Now Michael Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived. And James and Lily were run off their feet trying to juggle having a famous son, their own sudden fame, and their highly stressful jobs. James was the Head Auror after all, which meant he had tons of paperwork and inspections he had to deal with, being second only to Director Amelia Bones. Lily though was a politician, her son's title as the Boy-Who-Lived allowing her to step up and start changing the flaws of the Wizarding World (With Albus' backing in most cases).

And apparently this meant that they had no time for their eldest son, who was admittedly rather self-reliant and independent, but who was still only four years old.

Albus knew better though, he knew it was just an excuse. He knew that Lily saw Harry as proof of her weakness, he knew the pain that the young woman felt over her perceived 'betrayal' of James, and about how Harry symbolized that betrayal. And he knew that James' love for Harry had faded the less like him Harry grew up to be, how the more like his biological father Harry became the more James was reminded of the guilt of his actions and the more bitter he became over the proof that Harry wasn't _his_.

"Can I not convince you to send Harry elsewhere?" Albus asked quietly, "I know of a squib living in muggle London who would be more than happy to look after Harry for you," he offered hopefully.

"I don't think you understand Albus," James corrected coldly as he stood up, pulling his cloak off the back of his chair. "Harry's fate is _nothing_ to do with you. The only reason we even came to tell you is because we know you're fond of the boy. Besides, nothing you say would matter, he's already at his Aunt's as we speak. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back to work."

As James swept from the room, Lily slowly rose to her feet as well, watching her husband go with a guarded expression before turning back to Albus guiltily. "This _is_ what's best for Harry. I know you care about him, you're one of the only people outside of the family that he actually talks to. But every day he spends in the magical world, the more likely something is going to break through the binding on his… gifts," she explained hesitantly. "And you know what's going to happen if he's discovered," she added unnecessarily, "Just… just leave Harry alone. This is for his own good."

Albus slumped back in his chair as Lily followed James out of his office, the portrait beside the door murmuring out a confirmation that they had left as it checked its other frame in the hallway outside.

What was he going to do? He knew he couldn't allow Harry to live unwanted in the muggle world, not if Petunia Evans was still the cruel-hearted woman he had been introduced to at Lily's coming of age party. But then again, it was not like he could just take Harry away either, he was neither the boy's parents nor his guardian. He couldn't just leave Harry either, his instincts were telling him that leaving Harry with Petunia was a _really really_ bad idea, and he hadn't lasted one hundred and three years by ignoring his instincts.

Maybe the only thing Albus could do was to-

Pausing as an idea struck him, Albus reached out absently for a lemon drop and stuck it in his mouth, his mind racing around this new thought. Turning it around and studying it from as many angles as he could, Albus realised that this idea wasn't exactly a perfect one either, in fact it had the potential to go _disastrously _wrong without any warning at all.

But maybe… maybe it was truly the best thing for Harry?

As Lily had mentioned before, Albus was one of the only people Harry spoke to, the inverted boy turning mute around people he didn't know or trust. But when he did talk, Albus found that he showed the same potential that his mother must have shown when she was younger. Harry Potter was truly a brilliant child, and while going to muggle school and perhaps university could do marvelous things for him, he had to wonder if that life was the best one he could have.

There were two questions though. Did Harry know the truth? And, would Armaros be willing to accept guardianship of Harry?

"There's only one way to find out," he murmured to himself as he pushed himself up out of his chair and headed towards the door at the back of his office, entering his quarters. "Now where did I put you?" he asked out loud, scanning the bookcases covering two entire walls for a very specific book, "Ah, there you are."

Pulling the book from the shelf Albus drew his wand and with a flick, had the book floating in mid-air as the pages flew past, finally landing on the page he was hesitantly looking for. Taking a deep breath, Albus scanned over the list of ingredients and the chant required for the ritual, his mind already cataloguing what he had in his personal stores and what he'd have to get from the dungeons. Thankfully the ritual itself didn't look all too difficult, he should be able to get it all ready tonight, having it ready for if he was right about Petunia.

Directing the book to his coffee table, Albus shook his head and headed back towards his office. He'd have to tell Minerva that he was leaving the school grounds for a bit. And then he'd have to go 'visit' Petunia, and discover if the uneasy feeling in his stomach was well-deserved or not.

After all, if Petunia had managed to let go of her bitterness towards magic, then Albus wouldn't need to go so far as to summon Armaros and risk having himself turned inside-out and bright green.

Albus wouldn't know whether his old… friend… was in a benevolent mood or a malevolent one until the man was standing right in front of him. It was a risky thing indeed to summon a Trickster.

* * *

Mischief

* * *

Based off _Dis Lexic's_ **Dumbledore's Favour** challenge.

_Now I know that 'Armaros' is actually the name of one of the Fallen 'Grigori' (That's the right word right? Grigori?), but whatever, I thought it was a cool name. If I were to continue this then Armaros will be a Trickster and _only _a Trickster, he won't be a 'Gabriel'._

_And if you hadn't picked up on it. The reason Harry is a 'Squib' is because when they figured out that Harry was technically part dark creature, they bound his abilities instead of risking him accidentally using them and hurting someone._

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

_(And is it really necessary to have a disclaimer in _every _chapter? Like is that actually a rule that I have to? Or am I allowed to just state it once at the beginning and leave it at that?)_


	44. Clash of the Titans

"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Harry watched with baited breath as hands raised across the Wizengamot, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach as he counted that just less than half of the gathered Witches and Wizards had raised their hands, Fudge turning a smug look on him as the Minister realised the same thing.

"And those in favour of conviction?" the monocle-wearing woman asked with a resigned sounding voice and a sympathetic look on her face as she grimaced at Harry. "I am sorry Mister Potter," she apologized as every other hand in the chamber rose, more than half of the Wizards with their hands raised being people Harry either recognised from the graveyard or knew to be politicians that were denying his claims of Voldemort's return.

Fudge quickly lifted and smacked his gavel down on his desk several times, a huge grin on his face as he sneered down at Harry, "Aurors, seize his wand and destroy it," he ordered viciously.

Forcing his face blank, trying to hide the horrified '_No. No. No. No'_ that was in repeat in his stomach, Harry slowly drew his wand from his jacket pocket and stared down at it. After everything he'd done… after years of putting up with the wizarding world's shit… _this_ was his reward? They were casting him out for the rest of his life merely because they didn't want to admit that Voldemort was back?

Without his wand he couldn't be the Boy-Who-Lived anymore… without his wand how was he supposed to fight Voldemort? Without his wand he was a nobody to them, just some 'Squib' to look down on and…

Why was this a bad thing again?

Brushing off his thoughts as an Auror appeared beside him, Harry looked between his wand and the man's outstretched hand. Swallowing nervously, Harry reached out and dropped his wand in the man's hand, closing his eyes as he heard the loud crack of snapping wood echoing through the courtroom. Seconds after his wand was broken, Harry heard a whisper of haunted phoenix song erupting from the broken feather inside it, the song penetrating his chest and making something snap as if a switch had been flipped.

"Any last words Mr Potter?" Fudge asked mockingly, as the halves of his wand were handed back to him, the phoenix song filling him with a strange sense of confidence.

Almost instinctively Harry went to shake his head. freezing a couple of seconds later. Why was he saying no? He had plenty of things to say to Fudge. And while the Boy-Who-Lived would never have been allowed to say them, the broken wand in his hands was all that remained of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter wasn't allowed to speak his mind, his fame was nothing more than a gilded cage, an expectation of how he was supposed to act and the man he was supposed to be.

But Just Harry? Just Harry was going to say his piece… and he was going to enjoy it.

"Do I have any last words?" Harry asked almost conversationally, interrupting Fudge as the man raised his gavel to bang it again. "Oh by _Merlin_, yes I do," he confirmed calmly, staring the Minister dead in the eyes as the man glared down at him. "And here they are. 'Good luck with your war Minister'. I would have added 'I hope Voldemort makes your death quick and painless', but then I would have been lying."

As the thrill of being able to finally speak his mind rolled over him, Harry pushed himself to his feet and stretched. "But of course, since you don't believe he's returned then I guess you'll be fine won't you?" he asked innocently. "You better pray that you're right Minister, because if you not? Because if Harry Potter was right?" he pressed as he slowly raised his hands and tipped them, the broken pieces of his wand falling to the floor and clattering across the polished stone.

"Well you're in a shitload of trouble aren't you?" he finished with a smirk, before turning on his heel and striding straight towards the door as a worried murmur burst into life behind him.

He could grieve for his wand later, (And he would probably cry for it too, something he felt his wand deserved), but right now he needed to at least _look_ strong. He needed to conceal

Stepping into the hallway, he glanced over at Mr Weasley, the red-haired man looking up at him from where he was sitting against the wall. "They expelled me," he confessed simply, "Can we leave now?" he interrupted as the man opened his mouth with a pitying look on his face.

"Of course Harry," Mr Weasley agreed quickly, an understanding expression on his face as he stood up. "Do… do you think we have enough Muggle pounds to stop for ice-cream?" the man asked hesitantly as he looked at Harry from the corner of his eye.

"We do, but it's probably best that we head straight back to number 12," Harry admitted softly, "I'm sure Hermione could show Tonks to the store to buy some, I doubt the Headmaster would be happy if the Death Eaters kidnapped us because we stopped for ice-cream."

Mr Weasley let out a gentle chuckle at his words, "That's a very good point Harry," he agreed as they rounded the corner and started towards the elevator. "Although I'm sure Albus wouldn't blame you for stopping for ice-cream, that man's got more of a sweet tooth than a Cornish Pixie."

The forced smile slid of Harry's face as a smooth voice called Harry's name from behind them. "Mr Potter… good to see justice has been served," Lucius Malfoy continued as they turned to scowl at the smug looking man.

"Justice? I wasn't aware a Death Eater even knew the definition of the word," Harry countered darkly, figuring the man wouldn't try anything when the members of the Wizengamot were just stepping into the hallway. "Then again, I also wasn't expecting to see _you_ here," he added as Malfoy's eyebrow rose in amusement, "I didn't think you'd be anywhere other than on your knees in front of your half-blooded master, like the good little _slave_ you are," he said loudly, making the Wizengamot come to a sudden halt as they caught sight of the argument.

"Harry," Mr Weasley hissed, a hand grasping his elbow as Harry smiled calmly at Malfoy, deciding that since he'd already been expelled it wasn't like they could do anything more to him. "Enough."

"How dare you boy?" Malfoy began furiously, hand twitching towards his walking stick.

"Easily," Harry cut in, "After all I'm not the one here that runs around torturing and murdering muggles, am I?" he countered. "Has Fudge seen your arm since Voldemort returned? Has he seen how dark the Dark Mark is now?" he continued, smirking at Malfoy as the blond's eyes flicked towards the Wizengamot who were standing there paralyzed, all of them watching silently.

"I was held under the Imperius Curse during the First War," Lucius denied slowly, releasing his grip on his walking stick, "I have spent all my time since then trying to repent for the sins I committed while under it. Not that I would expect a mere _schoolboy_ to know otherwise."

"Well…" Harry said slowly, pretending to have an epiphany. "That explains why your son acts like he does. I mean I'm immune to the Imperius Curse myself, but if you were held under the Imperius Curse for _eleven _years, then there's no wonder why your son is such a weak-willed loud-mouthed _squib_," he spat coldly, "Like father like son, I imagine," he finished innocently.

Malfoy's face twisted in fury almost instantly, and his hand was being pulled back to strike Harry before either of them knew what was happening, only for a surge of power from inside Harry's chest to lash out in Malfoy's direction. As what Harry automatically recognised as his magic struck Malfoy, the nearly invisible force lifted him off his feet and hurled him down the hallway to slide to a stop at Fudge's feet, the blond's wand clattering to the floor right at Harry's own feet.

Glancing down at the wand at his feet, a wicked idea hit Harry, and before he knew what he was doing he was stepping forward straight onto it. As the loud crack filled the air, Harry lifted his foot and faked a guilty look, "Oops, I guess I wasn't looking where I was going. You know how clumsy us schoolboys are."

Turning his back on them, Harry started towards the elevator again, Mr Weasley hurrying after him with an unrecognisable look on his face. "I…" Mr Weasley began as they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid closed, "I suppose I should be scolding you for saying what you did," he said quietly, "But since that was so bloody brilliant, I won't tell Molly if you don't."

Unable to stop himself, Harry was grinning up at Mr Weasley, who grinned back for a moment before they both burst into laughter. And just like that, Harry could almost pretend he didn't feel the pain pressing on his chest, the knowledge that he'd been expelled being hidden for just a second.

Calming themselves as the elevator reached the atrium, the two of them crossed the floors, ignoring the whispers and stares of the Wizards and Witches loitering around. "Let's just floo back," Mr Weasley decided, making Harry grimace as they headed towards the fireplaces lining the sides of the atrium, Wizards and Witches scattering from the line as they approached and letting them go through straight away.

"After you?" Mr Weasley offered, making Harry nod and grab the floo powder.

Throwing it into the fire with a murmured "Number 12 Grimmauld Place,", Harry stepped into the green flames and instantly felt like he was going to be sick, the spinning already making him clamp his eyes shut. Tucking his arms up and preparing to be spat out of the fireplace, Harry's eyes snapped open as the feeling of spinning vanished suddenly, a strange magic surrounding him with the feeling of family and warmth.

_**Find Sirius, my son**_ a voice whispered in his ears, _**It is time to go to Camp. The Son of Hermes will guide you on your journey**__._

Before he even realised that he had actually heard the voice and that it wasn't a hallucination, Harry was stumbling out of the fireplace and bouncing into something soft, falling over himself and landing on top of someone who (Judging by the hair) could only be Hermione Granger.

Two hands grasped each of his arms, and Harry was lifted up to meet the grinning faces of the Twins as a blushing Hermione scrambled to her feet. "See! I told you Harry would get off," Mrs Weasley said dismissively from the kitchen table, "You didn't need to worry so much."

"Says you Mum!" one of the Twins pointed out, "You were basically tearing your hair out!" the other finished.

"Yes well," Mrs Weasley said with a blush as Hermione launched herself at Harry, crushing his ribs into a hug. "That doesn't matter now. Harry's returning to Hogwarts and everything is fine now. Actually, I think we have some cake left over, we should probably finish it off," the large woman rambled.

"I'm not," Harry corrected as he heard Mr Weasley coming through the fireplace, everyone coming to a halt as Hermione pulled away from him with a confused expression. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts," he forced out, not meeting any of their eyes as silence reigned through the room, "I've been expelled. They snapped my wand."

When nobody said anything, Harry nudged Hermione's arms off his shoulders and stepped away from her, his eyes flicking up to meet Sirius' guilt and shame-filled ones before the man vanished upstairs without another word.

"I'm… I'm going to go to my room now," he told the still silent room, "I want to be alone."

* * *

**Clash of the Titans**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's **_**Clash of the Titans**_ challenge.

_This story would be based off the Percy Jackson __**movies**_ _if I were to continue it, and sorry to tell most of you that it would also be __**slash**_ _of the Harry/Percy kind. I'm also proud to say that I'm getting back into the swing of things, with how I took a small break writing plot spiders (The manly version of plot bunnies), with jumping back to now being closer to breaking my 'Fifty Previews' goal._

**I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson**

_(Thanks to Mikko for answering my question on disclaimers! I have no idea what NZ's law on disclaimers are, and since I'm not a lawyer I'm just going to keep including them just in case. Thanks for answering though!)_


	45. Fallen

In the smallest bedroom of #4 Privet Drive, behind the shadowy door at the end of the second floor hallway, lay a dark-haired young man who couldn't be older than fourteen or fifteen years of age.

The boy lay on the floor, a sight that would make most people pause, the halo of blood radiating out from beneath his head likely making the people watching panic. Except Vernon Dursley wasn't 'most people', in fact he only smirked at the sight, before slamming the door shut and locking it.

As Vernon Dursley headed down the stairs, staggering slightly under the influence of the alcohol in his blood, he was unaware that the boy's eyes had snapped open at the sound of the slamming door.

Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, the boy scrunched his eyes up and shook his head slightly, trying to clear away the fog that surrounded his mind. Raising his hand without thinking, the boy brushed it over his throbbing temple, flinching at the pain that flared from the gentle touch. Feeling something wet on his fingers, he pulled them away and squinted at them, his vision sharpening as he realised that his fingers were coated in blood. His eyes moving slowly, the boy stared down at the blood pooling on the floor in confusion, not comprehending what his eyes were seeing.

It couldn't be _his_ blood could it?

As he felt a drop of blood making its way across his face and to his nose, the boy's eyes went crossed to follow it as it moved to the tip of his nose and fell, falling to the floor.

It _was_ his blood…

Moving slowly, he forced himself up to his feet and looked around the room he was in, he knew this place. He knew that he knew this place, but… but he couldn't remember… how did he know this place again?

Eyes locking onto a framed picture, he walked over to pick it up, staring at the moving image of the person he instinctively knew to be him standing arm-in-arm with a redheaded boy and a brown-haired girl.

This was _his _room then?

"_**Yes, Harry - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… you're really getting a bit big for it… we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."**_

As the shattered and jumbled memory flashed through his mind, confirming his suspicions, he - Harry- let out a quiet huff. This bedroom wasn't much better than the cupboard. They both were disgustingly cramped, second-rate, and if the leak he could see in the corner of the room was any indication then neither of them were fit to live in. Add to that how he had only been moved there because Vernon had been afraid that _they_ knew how the Dursley's had treated Harry, and it wasn't much of an improvement.

But… but what was wrong with his memories? It was like he could sense them… like he could feel how broken and shoved to the side they were, as if his mind had just snapped and then been swept out of the way. Reaching out tenderly, Harry remained standing in place as he started the process of repairing the fragile memories, watching them in an almost bored detached state of mind.

He lost track of how long it took him to go through the memories, but when he was done, Harry was tempted to destroy them and push them aside again.

They were disgusting…

_He_ was disgusting…

How could he allow himself to be treated that way? By his so-called friends? By his apparent _family_? He had let everyone walk all over him as they pleased, and he had kept coming back for more, like an abused puppy that didn't know any better.

His face twisting into a sneer, Harry glanced down at the picture in his hand and dropped it, watching as the glass suddenly shattered the moment it left his hand. Losing interest in the picture long before it hit the ground, Harry found himself moving towards the window and looking out of it upon the almost identical houses of Privet Drive, his mind returning to a far more interesting topic.

Patching together most of his memories hadn't answered the question of what had happened to him. He knew he was still missing things, like the name of the man who had not-betrayed James and Lily Potter, and the form the man who really _had_ betrayed them had taken as part of his cover. It was logical for him to assume that the memory he was looking for was one of the missing ones, which meant that he may never remember what had happened to him.

Dismissing the realisation as unimportant, Harry's eyes focused on a spot opposite #4, narrowing his eyes as he took in the sight of the brown-haired woman in robes leaning against #3's apple tree. Was she supposed to be invisible? She wasn't doing a very good job of it… aside from the slight shimmer coating her, Harry could see her as easily as he could the hair on his crossed arms. (Which was perfectly, by the way, he didn't know what happened but he seemed to have somehow cured his eyesight).

Why was there a witch watching his home? She wasn't wearing any kind of uniform, meaning she wasn't an Auror. And she wasn't wearing black robes and a mask, meaning she wasn't a Death Eater. From what little Dumbledore had told the old Harry, the blood wards should keep any witch or wizard away.

The newer Harry however, wasn't willing to take the word of the man who had left him in an abusive household and had insisted on sending him back there at the end of every year at Hogwarts.

Briefly wondering if he should go out and confront the witch, Harry pulled a face and moved away from the window. He needed to eat something… actually no… he _wanted_ to eat something, more for the sake of eating than out of any need to actually eat anything. He wasn't sure _how _he knew he didn't need to eat, but he just knew that it was so.

Striding across the room, side-stepping his own blood (And didn't the sight of _that_ make him want to tear someone apart) and pulling at the door, Harry froze as it refused to open. Tugging at the door with a frown on his face, it took him a couple of seconds to check his memories before he remembered that Vernon had installed locks on the door hours before he'd told Harry to move up into the bedroom. Yanking roughly on the door again as anger at his relatives' treatment of him surged up in his chest, Harry let go of the door and stepped back to glare at the door.

Blinking his eyes slowly, Harry opened them to reveal what he instinctively knew to be pure black eyes, the door exploding into black particles mere seconds later.

Stepping through the empty doorway as the black swirled back into his pupils, his natural green irises returning as he cracked his neck, Harry glanced up and down the hallway disinterestedly before feeling something small hitting his collarbone through his torn shirt. Staring at the drop of blood for just a moment, Harry grunted to himself before his eyes rose to stare through the open door to the bathroom, and into the mirror he could see from the hallway. Entering the bathroom, Harry took a moment to study the blood on his face, before raising both hands and running them up his face from his jaw to his hair, vanishing the blood from his skin and healing the wounds instantly.

Grunting again Harry blinked once more, his body bending and warping for a second as it vanished from the room. Reforming in the kitchen, Harry was greeted with a high-pitched shriek, and the sound of shattering glass from behind him.

Shooting his relatives a dismissive look, Harry turned to the pantry as Vernon's voice rang through the air, "FREAK! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"_**HOW DARE YOU? - ABNORMALITIES - USING THAT STUFF ON DUDLEY! - DON'T DESERVE - ALL WE'VE DONE FOR YOU! - YOU FREAK!"**_

His head tilted to the side as the memory flashed through his mind, Harry felt his body tensing and coiling up as the reason for his… change… was revealed to him in the form of his memory Uncle's fists.

As Vernon continued yelling and ranting behind him, Harry raised his hand and stared at it blankly, his mind conjuring the image of the blood that had been coating it minutes ago.

Vernon had been responsible for his change…

_Vernon_ had been responsible…

Vernon had tried to kill him…

_Vernon_ had tried to kill _Him_…

His eyes bleeding black again, Harry slowly turned around to stare at his Uncle, the rage from earlier bubbling up again in chest.

How dare that obese _fuck_ lay a hand on _Him_! That pathetic _muggle_!

Not even being aware of moving, Harry's lip curled back to reveal his teeth as he slammed his fat Uncle against the wall, his hand pinning him to the wall where it was lodged deep in his Uncle's chest.

His Aunt screaming in the background, Harry slowly and purposely twisted his hand in the blubbering man's chest, latching onto his heart and squeezing. At the sound of a chair being thrown back and a 'battle cry' filling the air, Harry's free hand shot out, and Dudley's roar turned into a pig-like squeal as he was thrown _through _the wall with a loud crash.

"What's the matter Uncle?" Harry asked innocently, watching as the man's face shifted between deathly-white and an unhealthy puce. "You should really calm down, all this screaming isn't good for your _heart_," he spat as his grip tightened.

Sliding his hand out of the man's chest, watching as the bleeding hole sealed itself after his hand, Harry instead merely touched his hand to the man's chest and twisted on the spot. As Vernon impersonated a wrecking ball and demolished the wall Harry had thrown him at, Harry strode back towards the benches and lifted the chef's knife off the bench and tested the sharpness of the blade, not tearing his eyes away from his almost unconscious Uncle.

"You never laid a hand on me Petunia," he growled out, his eyes flicking to the violently trembling woman cowering in the corner, "So as long as you never forget how _worthless_ you are, then you're free to leave."

His Aunt leapt to her feet without hesitation and sprinted into the hallway, Harry stepping back to watch her darting towards the door as he raised the knife in his hands, pivoting on his heel and hurling the knife down the hallway and into Petunia's back just as she opened the door.

"Oh wait…" he began as he waved a hand and Petunia was dragged back down the hallway by an invisible force, "You did. Not that I need a reason to kill you," he continued as he waved a hand through the air, kicking her onto her back as the knife appeared in his hand with a shimmer. "You see, _Auntie_," he whispered as he crouched beside her head, "I still remember when I was five, and you held a burning frying pan to the side of my face, claiming that I was nothing more than _hellspawn_."

Reaching out to cup Petunia's face for a second or two, wondering if she had once looked as beautiful as his mother before her hatred corrupted her, Harry snorted at the watery "_Please"_ that escaped his Aunt's mouth.

"The thing is Petunia. You called me a demon," Harry spat, pulling his hand back and backhanding her across the jaw, "And me? I call that a lucky guess."

Straightening up and releasing the knife above his Aunt, Harry let it fall as he vanished from the room, appearing in his bedroom with a ripple. With a wave of his hand, what little he actually wanted to keep had been banished into the void, a place Harry knew it'd be safe until he called for it again.

After glancing down at himself and grimacing at the blood splashed across his chest, he snapped his fingers and was suddenly wearing a black button-up shirt and dress pants. "This…" he murmured to himself, "This is more like it."

Teleporting downstairs again, Harry cast his Aunt's body a dismissive glance as he opened the fridge and pulled out one of Dudley's chocolate bars. Hmmm… he'd never tried one of these before…

Bumping the door shut with his hip, Harry stepped over his gurgling Aunt and started towards the door, just in time for the witch from across the street to rush into the hallway.

"Harry?" she questioned hesitantly, her eyes widening as she noticed Petunia's corpse behind him. "Oh Merlin Harry! Please tell me you didn't!"

Raising an eyebrow at the woman, Harry's lip curled back in disgust, not missing a stride as he continued down the hallway. "I don't have time for you," he muttered, snapping his fingers and making the witch collapse into black particles that he didn't hesitate to stride through as he snapped his fingers once more.

An explosion tore through the house behind him, flames consuming everything in their wake, and curling around his body almost lovingly before spiriting him away from Privet Drive forever. As the detonation reached the borders of the property, it stopped and surged back in towards the epicentre.

Vanishing before the explosion even reached its apex, Harry never saw the way it left nothing in its wake but rubble and fire.

* * *

**Fallen**

* * *

Based off **DZ2's **_**Revenge of the Fallen **_challenge.

_Okay, so I've been watching a lot of Nogitsune!Stiles videos on youtube. (And is it wrong that Dark!Stiles is kind of a turn on? Probably is). And they've kind of brought about a couple of darker ideas from the part of my mind I don't like talking about, and this is just the first of them._

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	46. The Game

Everything was dark...

Why was everything dark again?

Slowing pulling himself to his feet, Harry looked around what appeared to be the cockpit of an old train, nothing but white visible through the windows.

Frowning as he glanced around, Harry patted himself down to make sure he was all in one piece, a flash of fear filling him as he realised he couldn't find his wand. Fighting the urge to panic, he crossed the cockpit and threw open the door, faltering as he stared down the corridors of the Hogwarts' Express.

That's right… he was on the Hogwarts' Express, the school year was just beginning… but what was going on? Why wasn't he in his compartment with Ron and Hermione? Straining to remember what had happened, Harry bit his bottom lip nervously as he realised he couldn't recall anything past explaining to them that Sirius Black was after him.

Glancing over his shoulder at the cockpit, Harry shook his head and started down the corridor, peering into all of the empty compartments until finding one occupied by something that made him jerk back in horror.

As the black-cloaked wraith inside turned towards the door, Harry's instincts took over and he took off, running further down the corridor as he heard the door being thrown open behind him. Glancing back, Harry almost tripped as he saw the wraith floating after him, a familiar rattling inhale chasing him. Focusing his mind on putting one foot in front of the other, Harry sped up, sprinting down the corridors.

Horror filled him suddenly as he saw the closed door a couple of coaches ahead of him, recognising it as the luggage compartments. Barely having time to slow down, Harry slammed into the door and started pulling and tearing at it, trying to open the locked door as the wraith got closer.

Looking back, dread filled him and he launched himself off the door and down the corridor, pulling the door between the coaches shut and slamming the locks closed just as the wraith hit it.

Backing away from it quickly, a panting Harry returned his attention to the other locked door, throwing himself at it and trying to get it open before the wraith managed to break down the door. Stepping back and hurling himself at it, slamming his body weight into the door, Harry cursed himself for somehow losing his wand right when he needed it. Pulling himself away and charging the door again, he was rewarded with a loud cracking noise coming from the door, making him step back only to freeze as something slammed into the door _from the other side_.

The sound of shattering glass from behind him, made Harry dart forward, charging the door one final time as the wraith began to force itself into the coach through the broken window.

As he hit the door, he felt it giving way beneath his body, light burning into him and making him gasp as he was forced to clamp his eyes shut. Shock jarring his body as he and the door hit the ground, Harry scrambled forward, throwing his eyes open and trying to see through the blinding whiteness and the blood stains surrounding him.

Freezing at the sight of the blood, Harry stared down at the dried puddle mere inches from his hand for a moment before the wraith's rattling breathing made him spin around to see the black-cloaked creature hovering just out of the surrounding light's reach within the dark train. As the wraith edged closer, Harry backed away even further, turning and making a run for it as he realised it couldn't enter the light.

With his eyes finally adjusted, Harry looked around the white and froze in shock, his mouth falling over as he realised that he was standing in a blood-covered white King's Cross station.

"HARRY!"

Whipping around, Harry stared into the whiteness, eyes wide as he searched for the person who had screamed his name.

"HARRY! RUN!"

Run? Run from what? The wraith couldn't step into the light, and he couldn't see anything else in the white. The only things here where the train, the wraith, Harry, and the brown-haired teenager sprinting around the corner and making a beeline straight for him. Stumbling back as the teenager shot towards him, Harry felt the blood draining from his face at the sight of the tall pale snake-like man that stepped around a column behind him.

"HARRY! YOU'RE NOT RUNNING YET!" the brunet teen screamed, waving his arms wildly as a blade of blue energy sprung from the tip of the snake-man's finger. "MOVE!" the teenager yelled as he twisted around mid-step, deflecting the blue energy with a shield of rippling air, completing the spin and continuing to run towards him.

"No time to explain!" the teen gasped out as he reached Harry, latching onto his arm and pulling him along with him, "Just run!"

Left with no other choice than to follow the brunet, the snake-man still casting spell after spell at them wandlessly, Harry balked as he realised the boy was leading him back towards the train where the wraith was lying in wait. As both of them slid to a stop at the end of the train, the boy squinted into the black before a smirk crossed his face, Harry's mouth snapping closed at the dark look.

"Come on princess," the brunet hissed, looking between the train's interior and the approaching snake-man. "Come and get us. Three souls for the price of one, you can't resist _that_ kind of bargain can you?"

"What? Three souls?" Harry blurted, tugging at his arm in an effort to free it, "And it can't come out, it's stuck in there".

"Oh, I assure you Harry," the teenager muttered, his eyes not moving from the darkness, "That dementors are _more_ than capable of leaving the train, and it's just waiting for us to return".

Before Harry could respond, the brunet's grip was tightening, and as he cried out in pain he was thrown to the floor as the teen dove the other way in time for the wraith to explode out from inside the train to swarm towards the snake-man.

"GO!"

Not hesitating to obey as he was grabbed and shoved towards the train, Harry scrambled back aboard it, wishing that they could find somewhere safe so that the teen could explain what was going on. Allowing himself to be pulled down the train, the teenager waving his hand at each door they went through causing them to slam shut and lock each time, Harry only sped up as he was pushed ahead of him.

"All the way down," the teenager ordered, "Back to the cockpit".

Nodding to himself, Harry sprinted down the corridor, hearing the brunet's shuddering breaths between the sound of the doors slamming shut and locking.

As he reached the cockpit, the teenager entering mere seconds later and locking the door as well, Harry collapsed against the driver's seat and stared at the handsome teen who kept waving his hands at the door and muttering to himself. The boy looked… well like shit. He was sickly pale, with dark rings around his eyes, his simple jeans and shirt were torn to shreds, and what skin Harry could see through them was even skinnier and starved than he was. The boy looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in ever, and hadn't eaten in even longer. It made Harry wonder how long he'd been trapped in whatever this place was.

"That should hold it… for a while at least," the boy forced out, staggering over to a wall and collapsing against it, sliding down to the ground. "We won't have long though," he warned, glancing up at Harry with dead dark eyes, "You need to wake now, Harry, it's the only way we can get out of this alive".

"What… what was that?" Harry demanded, not wanting to go any further without knowing more, "And where are we?"

"That? That was Lord Voldemort," the teenager admitted bluntly, not noticing that Harry's jaw had fallen open as he continued with, "And this is your mind… your core. The dementor brought you in here to devour your soul, and the two others dwelling inside your body".

"Lor- Lord Voldemort? Two other souls? In my mind? And the dementor wants to _eat_ us?" Harry stuttered out, part of him wanting to just burst out into laughter and then wake up to find he'd fallen asleep on the Hogwarts' Express. "You… what are you doing in my body?" he demanded as his mind pieced together what the teenager had said, "And Voldemort? How is he?"

Unable to stop himself, Harry staggered to the side and threw up, bile burning at his mouth as a hand rested on his back and rubbed it soothingly. "Get away from me," he rasped out, not moving from where he had fallen to his hands and knees, "Don't touch me".

"Harry…" the teenager began hesitantly, staring into his eyes as if he were searching for something. "You don't remember me, do you? No… how could you? The last I remember you were only fifteen months, and now… you look too old".

"How am I supposed to remember you?" Harry choked out, shoving the teenager away and rolling onto his side, away from the vomit as he glared at the brown-haired boy. "Who are you?"

"I- I don't have a name," the teenager admitted slowly, a pained expression on his face as he looked away from Harry. "You never got the chance to name me, before Voldemort appeared and trapped me in here".

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded angrily, "That Voldemort trapped you in here? He's dead!"

"Not all of him is, _obviously_," the teen spat at him, glaring darkly before returning his attention to the door. "That was a shard of Voldemort's soul, only a small piece perhaps, but I was too young to be able to fight him off properly when the main host of Voldemort's soul was killed. It was all I could do to trap the shard that entered you in my section of your body, trapping us both in here, locked in ceaseless battle for _twelve long years_ without anyway of overpowering him".

"You didn't answer my question," Harry whispered, trying to get past the fact that he had had _two _extra souls locked in his body for twelve years. "Who are you?"

"And I said you never named me," the teenager countered, "I'm your Shadow? The spirit bound to you on your first birthday, as per the Potter Family tradition?" he explained slowly, "If Voldemort hadn't attacked and tried to kill us, then we'd have grown together, as brothers. You'd have named me once you were old enough to understand what it meant, and I would have protected us until we died".

"Why now? Why are you here now?" Harry asked weakly, some part of him just _knowing_ that the other teenager wasn't lying to him.

"I've always been here Harry," the brunet corrected softly, "But I couldn't do anything, not without giving the shard of Voldemort's soul the chance he needed to overpower, and thus you".

"But why now?" Harry pressed.

"The dementor. One of the only ways to kill me," the teenager admitted, "I'm the shadow of your soul, Harry. And dementors feed on souls, souls like the shard of Voldemort's soul out there, and souls like you and me. The dementor brought you here to hunt you down and devour your soul," he explained, reaching out to place his hand over Harry's heart. "The dementor's Kiss however also affected both Voldemort and I, freeing us both from the prison I trapped us in. _That_ is why I made you wait by the train, I was hoping the dementor could eat that shard of Voldemort, and I was right, it did. But now Harry, now we need to escape before it can get to _us_ too," he pressed, grasping his arms and squeezing them gently.

"How?" was all Harry asked, somehow knowing he'd have the chance to ask more questions later.

"Wake up," his 'Shadow' instructed, "Harry. You need to wake up, and fight the dementor off in the real world. Here you can't fight it, and I'm not strong enough to take control yet. Out there, you have a chance".

"I can't fight it," Harry denied as something slammed into the door, both of their heads whipping around to stare at the wraith - the dementor - through the window. "I can't fight it," he repeated fearfully.

"Harry! You have to fight it," the brunet teenager repeated, "If you make _me_ do it, we could die. I haven't feed in almost eleven and a half years, Harry, I'm not strong enough".

"I can't," Harry whispered, remembering the dementor's aura with a start as it began to seep through the door, his Shadow getting paler as it affected him as well. "I can't. I can't do it. I can't".

"Harry! Wake up!"

Staring at the other teenager, Harry just shook his head, the window shattering as his Shadow's face fell and went blank. The boy moved suddenly, revealing the dementor behind him as it clawed itself through the window and into the cockpit.

"Hold on tight Harry," his Shadow's voice whispered in his ear, making him turn to see the brunet boy settling into the driver's seat, "It's going to be a bumpy ride".

The dementor's hand reached out, freezing inches from his face as the white coming in from the windows started shining twice as bright as it were before. Looking up at his Shadow again, Harry caught sight of the boy's wicked smirk as everything went pure white and he knew no more.

* * *

**The Game**

* * *

_Based off _**DZ2's Part of Me **_challenge._

_Okay, so this is only loosely based off this challenge, but as my muse came up with the idea I couldn't part with the little brain-nugget and instead found myself nurturing it until what had started out as a passing thought turned into _this_._

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	47. Kinesis

With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

Letting out a sharp exhale as he and Ron exchanged relieved looks, they backed away from the door and turned to leave, Harry wondering if they should split up to try find the girl's bathroom - and Hermione - faster.

Shrugging the idea off, he started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner Harry heard something that made his heart stop in his chest - a high pitched, petrified scream - coming from the chamber they'd just locked up.

"Oh no," Ron said beside him, looking pale and terrified.

"Hermione," Harry finished weakly.

He wanted nothing more than to run back to Gryffindor Tower and hide in his dormitory, but Harry still turned and sprinted back down the corridor, hearing Ron's footsteps behind him as his momentum slammed him into the bathroom door. Scrambling to twist the key back, he threw the door open and darted into the room, freezing as he took in the cowering Hermione and the advancing troll.

Looking to Ron, who was standing paralyzed in the doorway, Harry snatched up a broken tap and hurled it at the troll with a shout of "CONFUSE IT!"

The troll faltered as the tap hit the wall, Harry grabbing a metal pipe and throwing it just as the troll turned to blink its mean little eyes at him. They stared each other down for a moment before the troll let out a roar and raised the club in its hands, shambling towards Harry as he grabbed more rubble from the ground and threw it at the troll.

"COME ON HERMIONE! RUN!" Harry yelled as he threw another pipe that bounced off the troll's thick skull uselessly. "RUN!" he repeated as he spotted the bushy-haired girl between the troll's legs, only for her to keep mouthing the same words over and over again as she hid in the corner.

As the troll brought down its club, Harry shot forward, sliding beneath its legs and rushing towards Hermione. "Come on!" he hissed as he grabbed two handfuls of her robes, trying to pull her out of the corner and towards the door, "We can make it!"

"Ha- Harry?" Ron's voice squeaked out, making him glance over his shoulder to see the troll looking between his club and the redhead still standing in the doorway. "A li- a little help mate?" the boy whimpered, standing frozen in place as the troll started towards him.

Not having the time to come up with a proper plan, Harry did something incredibly brave yet stupid.

Releasing Hermione, he sprinted across the bathroom and jumped, praying with all his might that the wind might catch him again, relief flooding him as he felt himself being lifted into the air and thrown at the troll's back. Wrapping his arms around its neck as the breath was knocked from his lungs; Harry hung on tight as the troll was rocked forward with the force of the throw, beginning to flail its arms and club in an effort to knock Harry off its back.

As Harry clung to the troll as tightly as he could, he found himself asking a very important question…

What now?

Catching quick glimpses of Ron pulling his wand out, Harry barely had time to react before the troll threw itself into the wall, the shock of the move knocking Harry off its back and dropping him onto the sinks below them. Yelping out a shout as he felt pain flaring sharply in his arm, bouncing off the sinks and hitting the ground, Harry clutched at his limp arm as Hermione materialized out of nowhere to pull him away from the still flailing troll.

To Harry, the world began to slow down. He could hear the roars of the troll as it swung its club around and destroyed sinks and cubicles in its anger, he could even see the troll moving slower than it should have been, as if in slow motion. He could hear the panicked screams of Ron, the boy's wand still held out in front of him, even though the boy hadn't moved an inch from where'd he'd been standing the whole time. He could hear Hermione speaking rapidly, the words blurring as she shook him, tears streaming down her face as he tried to translate what she was saying.

Raising his working hand at the warm feeling on the side of his face, Harry touched his cheek and pulled his hand away to peer at it, not reacting at all to the sight of the blood coating his fingers.

Oh…

He was in shock then… he should have recognized it, he'd gone into shock a couple of times before Hogwarts, back when his Uncle or Dudley and his gang would hit him in the head a lot.

Harry could feel his heartbeat… slow and calm despite the carnage around him, slow and calm despite the way the troll was turning to face them, slow and calm despite the way the troll's eyes narrowed at them and it roared.

Whoa… Harry was really wet… looking down at the blood dripping from his face and into the water flooding the bathroom floor, pouring from the broken sinks and toilets, Harry watched as the drops swirled and faded in the water as they were diluted.

_He could feel something familiar beginning to bubble in his chest…_

The troll was raising its club in both hands, lifting it above its head to bring it down on them. Hermione and Ron were screaming, the bushy-haired girl standing between him and the troll as if she could stop it.

_Pressure was building up beneath his skin, like something was just bursting to get free…_

A new voice had joined in the screaming, Harry's eyes flicking from the troll to the horrified looking Professor McGonagall standing too far away to help them. And then Harry could hear nothing, nothing beyond the rumbling roar that was echoing around the violently shaking room. And all he could see, was nothing beyond the club that was coming down on him and Hermione

_Harry's hand reached out, a single drop of water falling from the ceiling to land in his palm…_

And then everything stopped, Harry staring up at the frozen club for a moment before the pressure within his body exploded outwards.

White filled Harry's vision for a moment as porcelain went everywhere, water pulling at his body as his hand remained stretched out. The troll letting out a shocked bellow as its own club was thrown back into its chest, the power dancing around the room following instructions Harry didn't even realise he was giving, pushing the troll away from him as wave after wave of power surged from Harry's body and formed a faintly visible wall of energy between him and the troll.

Barely hearing the angry noises the troll was letting out, Harry focused his full attention upon the wall, somehow aware of everything his power was coming in contact with as if it were an additional limb that he could control not only at will, but without conscious thought.

Pushing the wall forward as Hermione collapsed against his chest, Harry heard someone shouting behind the wall as it slowly moved towards the troll, the rippling power resisting the beasts attempts to move through it as though the troll was trying to push through flowing water.

A flash of light almost blinded him, his control of the wall faltering for a moment as he stared at the glowing silver-blue cat that was running towards him.

"Harry".

Performing a double take as he tried to regain his slipping control, Harry stared at the cat as it continued to speak with the voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Listen to me Harry. You need to keep the wall up for as long as you can. The other Professors and I are subduing the troll, but we can't do that if you're at risk," Professor McGonagall's voice explained through the cat, "Keep the wall up, at full power, for as long as can. Get yourself and Hermione into a corner, and then give the wall all you have".

Despite the way Harry was still trying to juggle the shield and processing what McGonagall had said, Hermione was able to leap into action automatically, beginning to drag him into the opposite corner from the troll's majorly blurred form by the back of his robes. Taking care not to either lower his arm or bump his injured one, Harry allowed her to move him and tuck herself against his chest, as he closed his eyes and began to concentrate.

He didn't know how to keep the wall up _or_ how to keep it at full power, all he could do was keep it as the wall his accidental magic had shaped it into.

Suddenly, Harry was remembering something Professor McGonagall had told him. That he needed to 'will' the transfiguration to happen a little less and to focus on what the 'way' was. She had explained that if a wizard had the will, the magical power to transfigure something, and they had the way, the mental image of it turning from one form to another, then they could transfigure anything. With transfiguration, a wizard needed to get the exact right amount of will and the exact process of the way to make something transform. The better one got at transfiguration, and the better they got at instinctively controlling their will and their way.

After all, according to Professor McGonagall, 'If there's a will, there's a way'.

Keeping his eyes closed, Harry focused on the image of a wall of thick rippling blurred energy, building it up in his mind as strong as he could. Then he poured all of his will into it, believing with everything he had that the wall would prot- a sharp gasp of pain exploded from his mouth as something slammed into the wall, his eyes snapping open to see flashes of spell-light through the wall, as the troll threw itself at the shield in an effort to get away from the magic.

As a whimper burst from Hermione's lips, Harry's concentration faltered for a split second as he focused on her before he could stop himself, the troll letting out a victorious noise as the wall of power weakened enough for it to start pulling itself through. The sight of the troll tearing through his wall made Harry's concentration get even worse, the troll able to get halfway through before he heard the echoes of his name being shouted from the other half of the bathroom.

Snapping himself out of his fearful daze, Harry brought every inch of concentration he had down upon the troll, his hands spreading before he brought them in together, the power copying his hands and rolling in to engulf the troll in a pillar of power.

As the troll thrashed about and tried to escape, Harry concentrated on solidifying the power, hardening it so the troll wouldn't be able to move, let alone to fight. If he could just freeze the troll in place for a second, then the teachers could-

Harry let out a strangled choking gasp as an electrifying trickle of energy surged through his body, not needing to open his eyes as he felt the troll freezing in place before a sickening crunch filled the air, Harry's power collapsing in on itself and taking the troll with it.

As Hermione let out a shocked gasp, Harry slowly opened his eyes to stare at the troll as his power withdrew back into his body, the troll's lifeless body falling forward and hitting the floor limply.

"Huh," Harry exhaled weakly, his head falling to the side to land on Hermione's shoulder despite his best efforts to keep it upright. His eyelids drooping shut, Harry barely heard Professor McGonagall's voice giving orders before he passed out, willingly surrendering himself to the realm of sleep.

* * *

_**KINESIS**_

* * *

_Based off DZ2's _**World in Motion** _challenge._

_I'm not going to lie to you all, I'm a little hesitant about stories like this. Even though I was a bit of a late bloomer, I _mentally _matured a lot faster than the other kids in my year at school. Because of this, I don't really know how to write a child's POV without making them too mature, which is why I tend to avoid writing stories that beginning during/before 3rd year._

_Unfortunately this idea hit me and wouldn't go away, so here it is!_

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	48. Vegas Vacation

"_What did I ever do to you?"_

_Harry couldn't speak as he stared at Cedric Diggory, the older boy standing at the end of his bed, wearing his Triwizard Tournament uniform and covered in dirt and blood._

"_I thought… I thought we were friends, Harry," Cedric continued slowly, grey eyes staring into Harry's emerald green eyes, looking straight through to his soul. "You killed me, we were friends and you killed me"._

"_No," Harry wanted to say, "I didn't want this. I didn't kill you". But his throat was closed, his voice unresponsive, and Cedric continued glaring hatefully._

"_I'm dead because of you. It's all your fault," Cedric hissed darkly, despite Harry trying to shake his unmoving head. "Murderer"._

_Shutting his eyes, Harry begged himself to wake up, knowing it was all just a terrible, terrible dream. Cedric would never blame Harry for his death, he had to know there was no way that Harry had known what would have happened._

"_Pup"._

_If Harry could speak he would have whimpered, his eyes opening before he could stop them to see Sirius standing in Cedric's place, a scowl fixed on his once handsome face._

"_You're not actually dead Padfoot," Harry groaned out, "Stop trying to haunt me when you're not dead"._

"_I know I'm not dead," Sirius agreed hesitantly, a confused look on his face as Harry closed his eyes again and tried to will himself awake again._

"_Then why are you here?" Harry muttered, throwing his arm over his eyes, a mass of dread and pain building up in his chest as he waited for Sirius to start accusing him of killing him (Despite Harry knowing that he was actually still alive)._

"_Harry, wake up," Sirius ordered, shoving at his shoulder and making his eyes snap open again._ "You were having a bad dream," Sirius continued as Harry whimpered at what could only be a horde of hippogriff rampaging through his brain, "And the hangover isn't helping one bit, I'd imagine".

Before Harry could begin to prepare himself to _beg_ for a hangover potion, Sirius had lifted a camera from out of view and, with a loud cry of "Cheese!" took a picture.

Wincing at the sound of Sirius cackling as he ran from the room, Harry rubbed at his eyes in an effort to clear them of the imprint the camera's flash made, leaning back instinctively into the cool body behind him. Damn Sirius, when Harry caught up with him, he was going to neuter the ex-prisoner. After of course, he found his clothes and got a hangover potion, since the last thing he wanted was to be chasing after Sirius both hung-over _and_ naked.

Reaching out for his glasses and almost knocking them off the bedside table, Harry slid them on and froze as a groan sounded behind him, an arm circling his waist as a body was pressed against his back.

A _naked_ body…

A naked _male_ body…

Slowly glancing over his shoulder at his bedmate, Harry's stomach twisted painfully at the sight of the muscular chest and blond hair, the stupid part of his mind saying that he needed to kill Sirius before pictures of this could get out. And speaking of getting out, Harry slowly started to slide out of the bed, lifting the Blond's arm off his waist and flinching as his name fell from the sleeping man's lips.

Trying to keep himself from freaking out and waking the man, Harry looked around for his clothes, refusing to look at the bed as he gave up on his boxers and slid straight into the jeans Sirius had given him for Christmas. He had good news though, he didn't hurt, his uh… his ass… he means. Which meant that they - probably - hadn't had… done anything with each other. Which was good, because Harry wasn't gay, it wasn't his fault that _everyone_ found Cedric Diggory attractive. It didn't mean he was - whoa… looking down at his own stomach, Harry tried to convince himself that jealousy was _all_ he felt as he stared at the Blond's abdomen.

Just then, the Blond rolled over, thankfully covering his stomach, but unfortunately revealing something _ten times worse_.

In the small of the Blond's back, written in rough lettering, was "_Harry's"_ with a large black paw print on the Blond's right butt cheek. Almost instantly dread filled him, and Harry unbuttoned his jeans again and tugged them down, twisting around until he could see the "_Bobby's"_, with a snowflake on his own ass.

Oh dear Merlin… why did _he_ have to get the snowflake?

Snapping himself out of it as he realised what he had just thought, Harry snatched up his shirt and pulled it on, buttoning his pants up again as he made a run for the door. Barely stopping himself from slamming the door behind him, Harry turned around to see Remus standing in front of the table, in a room that was _clearly_ not the one that they'd checked into.

"Remus!" he exclaimed before he could stop himself, "There's a naked man in my-" this was when Harry finally noticed the half a dozen _other_ people sitting at the table staring at him "-bed" he finished weakly.

"HARRY AND BOBBY SITTING IN A TREE!" Sirius' voice echoed from somewhere in the hotel room, "S-E-XING-I-N- Wait how do you spell it again?"

"Sirius!" Remus scolded quickly, rushing around the table to grab Harry's elbow and lead the pale boy to a seat at the magically expanded table. "You and Bobby didn't have sex, Harry," the werewolf assured him quickly, "You went to bed fully clothed and fell asleep. Sirius banished your clothing this morning, under the mistaken impression that it'd be ten times funnier for you to wake up to a naked boy," he explained as he handed Harry a hangover potion that he didn't hesitate to scull.

Not believing Remus at first (He was a Marauder as well, after all), it was only the nodding of the red-haired woman and the brown-haired man sitting beside him that made him relax slightly.

"Call me Jean," the redhead introduced holding her hand out and making Harry shake it instinctively, "And this is my fiance, Scott".

"Harry, Harry Potter," he replied politely, faltering at the smirk that flashed across 'Scott's' face, his eyes flicking to the other three people at the table to find two of them hiding their own smirks and the bigger hairier one grinning openly at him.

"You sure about that kid?" the hairy man asked innocently, "You _really_ sure about that?"

"Logan!" Jean snapped, sending 'Logan' a Mrs Weasley-worthy glare that scared the big man into submission.

"Hey Harry," the petite brown-haired girl greeted happily, "I'm Kitty, and this is Peter. We're Bobby's friends," she continued, making Harry's ears, cheeks, and neck burn darkly, which only made her grin at him. "I'm also the Best Woman," she added quickly as Jean said her name warningly, "And one of the wedding planners".

"Wedding planners? Is someone getting married?" Harry asked slowly, still not entirely sure why they were all here together.

"Oh yes, my little pup," Sirius declared as he popped up from where he had been hiding behind a bench counter, bouncing across the room to pull Remus into a hug, tipping him back as if they were dancing. "It was beautiful! Remus got down on bended knee to pick up someone else's ring. Then he held it out to me," he continued, dropping Remus as a frown crossed his face, "You didn't even _ask_, you just shoved it into my hand," he exclaimed sadly as he stared down at the winded Remus.

"We're not getting married!" Remus called from the floor.

"You're right, it's too late for that," Sirius agreed as Harry just watched his Uncle's with a dropped jaw. "The four of us got married last night," he informed Harry seriously, "By _Elvis_".

"You two got married?" Harry asked slowly, trying his hardest to keep his face and voice clear of all laughter.

"We were drunk," Remus defended as he stood up, smoothing down his shirt, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. He made his huge argument about how you needed stable parental figures. Drunk me was very convinced," he explained sheepishly, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"Yeah. Especially when he found out that _you_ had already gotten married," Sirius piped up as he frowned down at the ring on his finger, "He was bawling his eyes out about how he'd failed you, then he insisted that we got married as well, just to show you support".

Harry stared at his Uncles for a moment longer before bursting into laughter, clutching at his sides as he almost fell out of his seat. "You're married?" he gasped out, "That's brilliant! I thought getting a _tattoo_ was bad!"

"Well actually Harry," Remus began nervously.

"You got a tattoo?" Sirius interrupted excitedly, "Where? When? What? Who?"

"You got a tattoo?" Logan repeated, blinking at Harry in confusion, "I don't remember that".

"Who cares?" Sirius dismissed, grinning at him from across the table, "Where is it? What is it?"

When Harry only blushed at his Godfather's questions, it caused the dog animagus to let out a howl of laughter, Logan and Scott beginning to snigger as well only for Jean to clear her throat.

"I don't see why this is so funny," she ground out angrily, "Marriage is a lifelong commitment. And tattoos are just as bad!"

"Two words Red. Divorce, and Laser Removal," Logan grunted bluntly.

"That's three words," Scott corrected helpfully as Jean growled at him.

"Marriage, is a lifelong commitment," Jean repeated slowly, "And these two boys have had their entire lives _ruined_ because _you_ thought it'd be funny to take them to Vegas and get them drunk!"

Wait… two boys?

"You've heard Black's explanation," Logan spat, "The kid's gone through more than you and Goggles put together. If anyone deserves a chance to relax and have some fun, then it's him. And you know what the others have been through. Sinister didn't pull his punches, so you can't tell me that Bobby didn't need to relax and have some fun either".

Raising his hand, Harry blinked slowly at the two gold and silver bands entwined into a singular ring resting innocently on his finger, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"But they _got married_ Logan! That's not relaxing and having some fun!" Jean shouted angrily, knocking her chair back as she stood up.

"You don't think I know that!" Logan yelled back, "I fucked up! I get that! I made a mistake!"

"A mistake?" Jean growled out.

"Jean!" Remus' voice interrupted, "Screaming at Logan isn't going to fix anything".

"I'm married?" Harry blurted, looking up at his Uncles desperately, hoping - no _begging_ that they'd yell out 'Surprise' and that it'd all been some kind of weird prank. "The first time I _ever_ get drunk, and I'm being married in Vegas, by Elvis?"

"Sucks to be you," a tired voice said from behind him, Harry jumping as the Blond, Bobby, collapsed into the chair beside him with a groan. "What happened last night?" he asked as he held a hand to his own forehead, a thin coat of ice spreading out from his fingers.

"How… how did you that?" Harry exhaled slowly, staring at the ice in shock and admittedly a little awe.

"We're Mutants, Harry," Kitty said excitedly, looking between him and Bobby with an expectant expression. "Bobby's a cryokinetic. He controls ice," she explained, as the Ministry of Magic's opinion on the 'Mutant Hoax' flashed through Harry's mind. Well, at least he knew that the Ministry was lying once more, although with their track record he should have expected it.

"Here kid," Remus said softly, handing Bobby his own hangover potion that the boy - for that's all he was, a teenager who barely looked any older than Harry himself - didn't hesitate to scull down after a whispered promise it'd help.

"Remus. Can we talk?" Harry blurted, standing and grabbing his Uncle by the throat of his shirt, dragging him back into 'his' bedroom.

"Harry," Remus began quietly, "I…"

"I'm married?" Harry asked weakly, knowing his Uncle wouldn't make jokes about this. "To him? To Bobby? Like, we actually got married, and I have a tattoo on my ass with _his_ name on it. And I'm sixteen, I can't be married, not to a mutant, not to a guy".

"I'm so sorry cub," Remus whispered pathetically, looking like he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and die from the guilt Harry could see swimming in his eyes. "I shouldn't have listened to Sirius when he said he wanted to come here. I should have argued more in favour of Disney World, like Sirius' first suggestion was. This is all my fault, I should have stayed sober, so I could watch you two. But I screwed up, and, I'm just so sorry," he finished, his eyes tearing up as the sickly werewolf just crumbled before Harry who didn't hesitate to pull him into a hug.

A loud _thunk_ echoed through the room as something slammed into the door, making them both jump in fright as the door was thrown open by a pale horrified Bobby.

As Bobby crossed the room, Harry stepped away from Remus, allowing the blond to grab his hand and pull it up to his face. Letting out a quiet whimper as he compared his ring to Harry's, Bobby looked up at him with a lost expression. "We're married," he said dumbly, looking between their rings and Harry's face, "We're married. Both of us. To each other".

When Harry just nodded silently, Bobby glanced to the side, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly a couple of times before he finally worked up the courage to say "I have a tattoo on my arse with your name on it".

Blinking at the blond for a couple of seconds, it was all Harry could do to keep his knees from collapsing as he burst into laughter. Leaning against Bobby as his _husband_ fell against him, beginning to laugh hysterically as well, Harry wondered just _how_ his life could get any worse right now.

And then it hit him, he'd have to tell Hermione…

* * *

_**VEGAS VACATION**_

* * *

_Inspired by Blood Brandy's _**Vegas Vacation **_challenge._

_Okay, so before anyone yells at me for this, I feel like I need to point the finger at the man who made me do this._

_If you want to maim someone, it's _**Compbrain1720** _who you should take it out on. I asked him for a challenge, and he gave me this one. Yes, it's my fault that it turned out the way it did. But I'm still blaming him for giving me the challenge in the first place._

**I don't own Harry Potter or X-Men.**


	49. Shadow of Mine

"BOY!"

Biting back a groan, Harry shoved the rest of the laundry into the machine and hurried from the room, reminding himself to go back and finish the job as he moved through the house to where his aunt Petunia was pulling a large coat on.

"Dudley and I are going to the mall," she informed him coldly as she grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder, "I want the laundry _and_ the weeding done by the time we get back this afternoon. No excuses".

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry agreed instantly, keeping his voice and face blank as Dudley sneered at him victoriously.

"If you've behaved yourself when we get back, then you can take a sandwich up to your room to tide you over until dinner time," Petunia continued, seemingly having not heard his confirmation. "But _only_ if you've behaved yourself".

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry repeated, already certain that there would be something 'wrong' with his attitude that would end in him not getting anything beyond stale toast for dinner. He should probably feel bad about the fact that his relatives were getting to be so predictable, but all he really cared about was that once more he wasn't eating tonight.

Waiting until his aunt and cousin left the house, Harry quickly went back to the laundry closet and added the detergent to the machine, heaving the other basket of still wet clothing over so he could empty it into the dryer. Barely resisting the urge to hurl as he transferred his aunt's unmentionables into the machine, Harry faltered as a voice whispered in the back of his mind, making him lick his lips as he glanced back over his shoulder.

His brain was right… he could grab something to eat while he was alone, to make up for the breakfast he was denied, and the Dursleys would never notice. They would all assume that one of them ate it, and as long as he left no signs that it was him and as long as he didn't touch anyone's 'special' snacks, then he could easily get away with it.

As his stomach rumbled, urging him on, Harry shook his head and tried to push the thoughts from his head. He got punished for stealing food even when he'd been locked in his room all day, actually stealing the food would only end in pain and even _smaller_ rations than he already got. And adding starvation to his nightmare-induced exhaustion would only make the too-long gap between Hogwarts years even longer.

Turning away from the idea, Harry turned on both machines and headed back through the house, planning on getting the weeding done before the sun reached its peak in the sky and the heat became unbearable.

He really needed to take better care of himself…

Not that it was easy to do, the Dursleys wouldn't allow him to be treated like a 'normal' person, and it's not like he could go against them. He was only one teenage boy, which compared to his whale of an Uncle and his mini-whale of a cousin, meant he couldn't try to demand things without having the crap beaten out of him.

He had magic though…

Not that he could use it, after Dobby's interference last year, Harry wouldn't even get time to explain himself before he was being expelled and his wand snapped.

Sighing as he grabbed a lighter shirt from his trunk, one that wouldn't cause him to overheat as much as the one he was wearing at the moment, Harry moved through to the bathroom. He may not be able to just steal food, but there was one thing that he could always help himself to without the Dursleys catching on. And since he was going to be spending the rest of the day in the sun, he knew he definitely wanted to cover up with some sunscreen, instead of including sunburnt to his list of problems.

Stripping off his current shirt and dropping it to the floor at his feet, Harry pulled out the sunscreen and squirted a generous amount into his palm, looking up at his reflection in the mirror and promptly freezing.

"Boo," his reflection said simply, a smirking flashing across his face seconds before his hand was reaching _out_ of the mirror and snapping shut around his throat, Harry not even having time to react before he was being pulled in.

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open suddenly, transferring from the realm of sleep into the realm of… not sleep..., as if someone had flicked a switch.

Staring up at the ceiling above his bed, Harry lay there stiffly, part of his mind screaming that something was wrong. What was he doing in his room? He was _supposed_ to be doing the gardening, so why was he sleeping on his bed?

Feeling something crinkling beside his head as he shifted, Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around his room slowly, his mind once more telling him that something was wrong. Glancing down by his pillow, he frowned at the sight of the brown paper bag, hesitantly reaching out for it and plucking the small parchment note from the top of it.

"_I think you'll find these to your liking_".

His frown deepening, Harry pushed the bag aside for a moment as he climbed off his bed, shooting his bedroom door a guilty look as he moved over to his open window to peer out it at the perfectly weeded garden.

What in the name of Merlin was going on here? He hadn't done the gardening, he had finished the laundry, and then he'd gone to put some sunscreen on… only for… Harry's head snapped around and he stared at his bedroom door in horror. The mirror… his reflection. His hand rose up to gently touch his throat, remembering the feeling of the cold hand as it clamped shut and cut off his oxygen. He had been pulled into the mirror, into his own reflection, which had clearly been alive somehow.

But… someone did the gardening, and it wasn't him. He doubted he'd be feeling so well fed if it had been up to his Aunt to hire someone, he would be locked in his room without dinner for a week perhaps, but they definitely wouldn't have fed him enough that he felt like he was going to burst.

A cold breeze from behind him made Harry freeze, looking down at his naked body in shock, not having noticed his state of undress before, and eternally thankful that the open window didn't go lower than his belly button. Hurrying over to his dresser, Harry froze again as he tugged it open to reveal row upon row of unfamiliar clothing, the other drawers containing new clothing as well.

This wasn't real… it couldn't be. He had new clothing. He was well fed. He'd even been allowed to sleep in to what looked like around noon. Either he'd died and gone to heaven or something, or… or he'd been pulled into an alternate dimension in the mirror? It certainly sounded stupid, but with magic who knew _what_ was possible, for all he knew it was common knowledge in the Wizarding world to stay away from possessed mirrors.

Feeling a little hesitant about the idea, Harry pulled on a set of the new clothes, feeling slightly uncomfortable standing there in a fitted black henley, a pair of extremely tight jeans, and what felt like skin-tight briefs… Actually… aside from the uncomfortableness of the new clothing, he looked rather good. He definitely felt vain as he inspected himself in the mirror hanging above his desk, maybe once he figured everything out he'd invest in some new clo- _and his reflection just winked at him_.

Nervously following his reflection's eyes, Harry stared at the paper bag on his bed cautiously, glancing back at himself in the mirror to find his reflection was acting completely normal. Backing towards his bed, and keeping an eye on the mirror that hadn't been there last time he'd been in his room, Harry fell backwards onto his bed, pausing as he realised that apparently his bed was new too as he sank right down into the soft mattress. Taking a moment to close his eyes and relax, his need to understand what was happening rose up again, making him reach out to gently upend the bag beside him, staring down at the small black box in confusion.

It was a watch, he discovered after opening it, a beautiful watch on a simple black leather wristband.

But he hated it for one simple reason… the background of the watch, its face, was a mirror. A mirror currently containing a twinkling emerald green eye that winked at him again.

"What are you?" he whispered to himself, both wanting to put the watch on, and wanting to throw it to the ground and stamp on it.

"What do you think I am?" came the unexpected response from across the room, Harry's head snapping up in fear to stare at his smirking reflection.

"I- I uh, a spirit?" Harry asked nervously, licking his lips as he watched his reflection watching him intently. "Some kind of spirit, that's possessing the mirror, or me".

His reflection scoffed slightly, "Nothing so dramatic, I assure you," he promised. "Remember what Dumbledore said? About how Tom Riddle transferred some of his power into us?" he question.

"There's no 'Us'," Harry denied instantly, hating the way his stomach clenched and the way he could feel his heart skipping a beat, his own body rebelling against his claim.

"Oh Harry," his reflection murmured, looking truly heartbroken as he smiled softly at him, "You have no idea".

"There is no 'Us'," he repeated stubbornly, "You're not me! You're-" Harry froze as his brain clicked to his reflection's words, "-You're the power Tom Riddle transferred into me," he blurted.

His reflection only gave a half-shrug in response to Harry's accusation. "In a way, I guess I am," the mirror image of himself confessed, "Except Dumbledore lied to us. Tom Riddle didn't transfer his power into us," he corrected slowly, Harry unable to tear his eyes away, "Tom Riddle transferred _himself_, or part of himself anyway. Much like he did to his diary in fact. The bin is at the end of our bed," his reflection added a couple of seconds later, in time for Harry to throw himself down his bed and scramble for the bin.

He was talking to Tom Riddle… a part of Tom Riddle was _in his head_, and talking to him. Tom Ri- no, _Voldemort_, was in him. There was part of Voldemort inside him, oh Merlin…

"Relax Harry, it's dead," his reflection's voice called out as he threw up into the bin again. "Mum's protection damaged it a bit when we fought Quirrell last year. And then the dark magic of the diary woke it up, in time for the basilisk venom to almost destroy it. It was too weak to survive on its own, so it tried to take over. It gathered up every negative emotion, every bad thought and cruel desire, and it tried to overwhelm you. But our magic destroyed it," he continued, Harry able to hear the smugness in his reflection's voice.

"But that wasn't all that happened. It was a soul, Harry," his reflection whispered as he raised his head to stare at the mirror, "It had life, life that was given unto me. I'm everything you push away, every emotion you repress. I'm the darkness of your very soul, everything Voldemort tried to use against you, given life," the mirror image hissed out darkly.

"You're not real," Harry denied quickly, the idea that the 'darkness of his very soul' was now alive and living in his head chilling him to the bone.

"I'm just as real as you," his reflection corrected bluntly, "I'm your dark side. I guess you could say that had you grown up any differently, had you not quashed your anger and concentrated on being such a good little boy, that you could have been me".

"You're not real," Harry argued again, fingers twitching to find some parchment and send Dumbledore a letter asking for help.

"If I'm not real, Harry, then who did your homework for you?" his reflection questioned simply, "Who did your chores? Who fed you, bathed you, while your mind slept? You bought you new clothes? You stole you that watch?" there was a pause in which Harry could hear his heart pounding rapidly in his ears, "Who looked after you when no one else would?"

"What do you want?" Harry demanded, refusing to show how shaken he felt at his reflection's last sentence.

"A name," his reflection admitted instantly, "I may just be the yin to your yang, your mirror image. I'm the Slytherin to your Gryffindor, Harry. But I'm as good as your twin, I'm just as alive as you. And I need, I want, a name of my own".

"I thought we were an 'Us'? Why would you need your own name?" Harry snapped angrily, his mind going around and around in circles, completely lost.

"We'll always be 'Us'," his reflection countered, "But even Fred and George are their own people, despite being FredandGeorge".

"Evan," Harry mumbled before he could stop himself.

"Excuse me?" his reflection questioned, part of Harry telling him that he had heard and was only asking to make him say it.

"Evan," Harry repeated out loud, "Mum's last name".

'Evan' was silent for a moment, before softly clearing his throat. "Here's the deal, Harry," he declared gently, "You weren't taking care of yourself, of us, so I put you to sleep and took control while your mind recovered. If you don't look after yourself, _then I will_. And I have almost twelve years of repressed anger to work off, so I get the feeling you won't like my methods," he promised coldly.

"I'm not some, demon, or spirit," Evan continued, "I don't to take over your body and watch the world burn. I take care of us, and only us, I couldn't care less about your friends or the Wizarding world," he added as Harry stared up at him. "As far as my mind is concerned, you're my twin brother, even if I'm not flesh and blood. Do you understand?"

Yeah… Harry understood. It was actually scary how he felt the same way about 'Evan' already. He didn't think he could actually contact Dumbledore for help, since Dumbledore would try get rid of Evan, and some part of Harry felt sick at the very idea of it.

"Come on now Harry," Evan ordered, "Stand up. Put your watch on, and go downstairs. It's lunchtime, and I'm starving".

"The Dursleys won't let us eat lunch," Harry corrected automatically, still marvelling over the way Evan seemed to have just 'clicked' into place in his head.

"Correction. The Dursleys _will_ let us eat lunch," Evan corrected smugly, "You were asleep for two days, Harry. I taught them a lesson they're never going to forget. Oh don't worry," he said quickly when Harry froze, "I didn't physically harm them… much".

* * *

_**SHADOW OF MINE**_

* * *

_Inspired by Dis Lexic's _**Demons at Hogwarts **_challenge._

_So this story isn't at ALL what the OP was looking for, sitting back and reading it has clearly shown me that. BUT I find myself interested by this idea, and want to know what you guys think._

_Think of Evan as Harry's Slytherin half given a life as a split personality._

**I don't own Harry Potter.**


	50. Vigilante

"_Please_ Mum?" Hermione Granger begged, "I'll be back before you even noticed I'd gone, and you and Dad are going to be in this meeting for at _least_ an hour. I really _need_ this book, and I've saved up for it myself, I'll be in and out in _less_ than an hour".

"Sweetheart," her father piped up softly, "Hermione's a bright girl, I'm sure she can handle being alone in the Alley for just one hour," he assured his wife.

Her mother scowled between the two of them for a moment before letting out a slow sigh, "I take it I don't get a choice in the matter?" she asked rhetorically. "Fine. You can go," she allowed, "_But_. I want you back at the office before the meeting is over, _and_ I want you to be extra careful now that this 'Dark Lord' fellow is back. Alright?" she demanded quickly.

Hermione barely managed to resist the urge to salute her mother, a gesture she'd picked up from Harry who'd salute her after she gave her instructions regarding their homework, instead just launching herself forward at her Mum for a quick hug. "I'll be back before you know it," she promised, trying to get her overprotective mother to relax, "And I've got my wand, so I can protect myself on the off chance that something does happen".

When her mother pulled an unhappy face at the mention of her having to protect herself, Hermione patted her pockets to make sure she had both her purse and her wand on her, before giving her father a quick hug as well. Minutes later she was heading down the street to the Leaky Cauldron as her parents entered their lawyer's office, her mind racing with ideas of exactly what books she wanted to buy, having enough money to buy the book she needed as well as two others.

The Leaky Cauldron was quiet when she entered it, filled with nervous looking witches and wizards, more than one of them grasping their wands as she walked inside. Seeing her dressed in muggle clothing made them relax however, proving to her that they were on the watch for Death Eaters now that the Ministry had pulled its head out of its arse regarding Voldemort's return. It had taken them long enough too, they didn't want the proof that Harry had happily offered them… no… they were happy to alienate and insult him until they were faced with irrevocable proof, making them suddenly turn full circle to worshipping Harry as their 'saviour' as if they'd never turned on him in the first place.

Ignoring the whispers from the rare witch or wizard that recognised her from the Daily Prophet as Harry's friend, Hermione swept through the Leaky Cauldron and into the Alley, heading straight towards Gringotts to exchange her muggle money for wizarding galleons. Sidestepping a witch struggling with a baby, Hermione's world slowed as a bright light appeared in the corner of her vision, her head turning to follow it in time for everything to speed up, an explosion lifting her off her feet and throwing her across the Alley to bodily slam into a stall.

Coughing and gasping her breath as her ears rang, Hermione pushed herself onto her hands and knees, dizzily looking around at the black-robed Death Eaters that had appeared from nowhere to attack the Alley.

Pushing aside the fear that rose instantly in her chest, Hermione drew her wand and took aim, closing her eyes and shaking her head as she found her trembling hand unable to target the Death Eater holding the mother from before under the Cruciatus. What was wrong with her? She was Hermione Granger; friend of Harry Potter, co-founder of the DA, one of the Ministry Six. She could do this, she had trained for this all last year. She had done this last year as well, fighting off the Death Eaters in the Department of Ministries.

She would _not_ fear them.

As her hand stabilized, Hermione took careful aim before yelling "_Stupefy_!" and sending the torture-happy Death Eater flying into the burning shop that had exploded before.

Scrambling to her feet, Hermione snatched up the crying and bleeding infant near her feet and shot across to help the mother up, shoving her baby into her arm with a quick order to "Run".

A familiar green spell hitting the stall beside her, she spun around with a disarming charm flying from her wand, barely missing the approaching Death Eater as he took aim at her once more. Easily sidestepping the Death Eater's cutting curse (Harry always claimed the most important part about duelling was dodging), Hermione sent a quick stream of charms and jinxes back, even throwing in a couple of minor cantrips just to throw the dark wizard off guard.

"_Bombarda_!" Hermione spat, slashing her wand across her chest and aiming the spell at the ground at the Death Eater's feet, the explosion blasting him backwards and into another black-robed terrorist.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

As the killing curse flew towards her, Hermione's mind came to a grinding halt as she realised that that was it for her, that she didn't have the time nor knowledge to counteract the deathly spell. Closing her eyes as the spell neared it, a loud rumbling crack made her eyes snap open, just in time to see the stone wall that'd erupted from the ground in front of her crumbling into dust. "_Reducto_!" she cried, quickly cursing the Death Eater responsible for almost killing her while he stared at the remains of the wall in confusion.

When the Death Eater deflected the spell, Hermione opened her mouth to curse him again, only for him to stumble back and start sending spells far above her head. Before she had time to turn around, a blur was landing in front of her, a man standing before her dressed in a long black shimmering cloak that barely brushed the ground.

Lunging forward, the man threw a bolt of electric-blue energy at the Death Eater, the spell shattering the dark wizard's hasty shield and then doing the same thing to his chest. Not hesitating as he vaulted over the dead wizard's body, the man twisted and sent a rippling blast from his palm that blasted a piece of burning rubble into the Death Eater that had tried to kill her earlier.

When he landed gracefully, Hermione finally got a good look at the man that had saved her, blinking in shock as she realised he was wearing black leather body armour in addition to the shimmering cloak that covered his face. What caught her attention next, was that when the man raised his hand and snapped his fingers to conjure a ball of fire above his palm, she finally noticed that all the magic he'd done so far had been wandless.

Raising the fireball to his face and blowing hard at it, Hermione watched as the man released a cone of fire at a Death Eater, engulfing him before he could summon a shield as the other dark wizards began to realise that someone was actually fighting back against them.

Dancing gracefully out of the way of the Death Eater's attacks, the man shimmered slightly before two clones of himself stepped out of his body, all three of them twisting about to make a grabbing motion at the nearest Death Eater before suddenly tearing their hands apart. As Hermione almost threw up at the sight of the dark wizard being torn in half by the magic the cloaked man was generating, she watched as he casually flipped out of the way of several killing curses, her mouth going dry as one of them continued on its path and shot towards her.

Suddenly the cloaked man was appearing in front of her in a flash of light, throwing something at her as he backhanded the killing curse from the air and deflected it to the ground.

Catching what was thrown at her, Hermione blinked down at the rock in confusion before a sudden tugging at her navel lifted her off the ground and into the nausea-inducing vortex that accompanied portkeys.

Hitting the ground roughly, her wand was the first thing to rise as she pointed it around wildly, her mouth falling open slightly as she took in the brightly lit hall she was in. Looking around the hall that was perhaps only slightly smaller than the Hogwarts entrance hall, she frowned slightly as she saw the tables set up in a semicircle in front of her, parchment and books covering almost every surface with weapons scattered about the room.

With a glance around to check for the cloaked fighter that had both rescued and kidnapped her, Hermione edged forward, her wand still at the ready as she neared the table and faltered at the sight of what she could see written on the parchment. Some of the pieces of parchment held what looked like directions to casting spells, spells she was assuming came from the spellbooks surrounding them. Another table covered in pieces of parchment contained blueprints, some plain while others had glistening ink splattered across their surface with directions and arrows pointing everywhere. Moving over to a third table, Hermione's mouth fell open again at the sight of the muggle comic books strewn across the surface of the table.

"A superhero," she blurted dumbly, her mind coming to the only conclusion it could as she ran her fingers across the cover of a Batman comic. "A vigilante," she corrected a couple of seconds later, some youthful part of her mind feeling slightly excited by the whole idea while the rational part of her scoffed at the childishness of it all. It definitely made sense, even she could see that witches and wizards weren't going to fight for themselves, the moment Voldemort had been confirmed as back they'd all turned to Harry and started demanding that he kill Voldemort like he had 'the first time'. Wizarding Britain definitely needed a superhero/vigilante running around, not that she approved of the way he'd killed the Death Eaters without hesitation, but if a hero wasn't fighting for them then no-one would.

As her eyes rose up to the blue curtain that hid part of the hall from her eyes, her attention being caught by the light she could see flickering behind it, Hermione circled around the table and started towards it. She needed to figure out as much as she could about this place and the person beneath the cowl, before they returned to reveal whatever the reason they had for kidnapping her. What she was going to do when they came back she wasn't sure, she didn't think there was anything she _could_ do to him. After all he'd swatted the killing curse aside like a fly and had conjured and thrown fire with his bare hands.

Reaching the curtain, Hermione whirled around as something clattered behind her, her wand arm trembling slightly as she pointed it at the tortoiseshell cat that had jumped up onto one of the tables behind her. As the cat fixed her with a clear 'What do you think you're doing?' look, Hermione's grip tightened around her wand until the cat turned her back on her and started grooming herself as if she'd already forgotten about Hermione's presence.

Swallowing nervously, Hermione glanced between the curtain behind her and the cat, slowly turning around and reaching out to tug the curtains open and revealing the semicircle at the apex of the hall. Feeling her jaw dropping for the third time that day, she stared up at the giant stone statue that stood at over three times her height, the sheer detail of it making part of Hermione suspicious that it was actually a living being instead of just statue.

Set at the very tip of the semicircle, the statue was made out of a white stone, depicting a tall and slender man. Clean-shaved and short-haired, the man was dressed in what looked like intricate leather armour, a long snake twisting down around one arm while a ball of real crackling white fire hovered above his other hand. At the statue's feet was something that made Hermione's stomach clench painfully, a bloodstained altar with several lit candles still burning on it and a long bloody knife.

Moving to climb onto the small platform the statue was on, the sound of a throat clearing directly behind her made Hermione jerk back, a scream escaping her mouth as she collided with a body that hadn't been there seconds before. Spinning around with a curse on her lips, her words failed her as Harry easily caught her flailing wrist and directed a scowl in her direction, before pivoting and physically _throwing_ her away from the curtained off shrine (For that's all it could be).

"You know," Harry growled out, Hermione scrambling backwards across the floor to get away from the glaring boy, "I don't recall you being this nosy".

"Ha-h-Harry?" Hermione stuttered, the dark look on her best friend's face keeping her from being able to gather her thoughts.

Scoffing Harry stalked past her, shutting the curtains with a dismissive wave of his hand as he circled around the tables, unhooking the shimmering cloak around his shoulders with a simple gesture. "What's the first rule of duelling?," Harry demanded bluntly as Hermione pulled herself to her feet, watching as he threw what she now recognised as his invisibility cloak around a mannequins shoulders and redid it.

"I-um It's uh-um," Hermione began, trying and failing to link the brutal vigilante that had torn a Death Eater apart with a wave of his hands and her gentle sweet Harry Potter.

"I um it's uh," Harry mimicked sarcastically, "Line?" he exclaimed as he turned to face her. "I'm sorry, did you not get the script?" he deadpanned rudely, "Because this is where you're supposed to say 'The first rule of duelling is to not get hit'. Which by the way, you failed at, by standing _right_ _in front_ _of the killing curse_. And not just once, but _twice_!" he yelled angrily.

"HARRY!" Hermione shouted, snapping back to herself as she bit back tears at her friend's biting words.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted back without hesitation.

"You- You-" she began.

"I what?" Harry interrupted, "I saved your life? Don't worry about it, what's a little life-saving among friends?"

"How?" Hermione blurted, unable to gather the words she needed to ask the full question.

"How did I save your life?" Harry asked innocently, "Or how did I do all this?" he clarified as he gestured first around the room and then down at his leather armour.

"How did you do all _that_?" she demanded, gesturing at the imposing figure Harry made dressed in pure black armour.

"Long story," Harry dismissed lazily, "But the short version is that the wizarding world needed someone to do all the dirty work for them, and I needed to get revenge for Sirius' death. I help him, he helps me. It's simple really".

"You help _who_?" Hermione questioned, trying to wrap her mind around it all.

"Him," Harry clarified with a gesture behind her, making Hermione turn to see the blue curtain slowly sliding open to reveal the statue behind it. "The one who tasked me with cleansing the magical world of filth such as Voldemort," Harry explained simply, "The Patron Deity of the Potter family since the founding of my House".

"Loki; Trickster God of Mischief and Magic".

* * *

**VIGILANTE**

* * *

_Based on _**DZ2**_'s _Vigilante Harry_ Challenge._

_Now... there are probably some major spelling/grammar errors in this. But it's almost 3am and I'm really _tired_, and n__ow that I've got this idea done and posted I might finally be able to get some sleep._

_Hope you enjoy it!_

_**I don't own Harry Potter.**_


	51. Mirror

_HELLO READERS!_

_It's the Undercover Operative here, delivering to you my FIFTIETH addition to the Lost Files pages._

_It's been a long journey to get this far, but with all your support I've made it to what's perhaps the biggest of my current goals in life (Which is actually kinda sad now I think about it) at the moment (It's even sadder that this ranks higher than the whole 'Falling in love and starting a family' dream of mine)._

_I'd just like to thank two people especially for their help in getting me this far._

_**DZ2**, dude... It was because of you that I really started getting into writing fanfiction, with your 'Charmed Harry Challenge' catching my eye as it did. I'd love to say that my 50th Chapter was dedicated to you, but it's not so... yeah. Be happy though, because the entirety of the Lost Files is in fact dedicated to you, as you're the one that gave me that push to even start it, going as far as to hit upon the jackpot of the name that is 'Lost Files'._

_And secondly, **Daniel** (Compbrain). I know sometimes I don't act like it, but you've really been a good influence to me over the past however long we've been talking for. So _thank you_, for all you've done, for letting me bounce ideas of you at ass o'clock in the morning and being completely stubborn about the stupidest things because I felt like it. I'd love to say this chapter was in fact dedicated to you, but like with DZ2 it's not, but my next story _will_ be dedicated to you. Pinky promise._

_Now... I'd love to tell you all who my 50th chapter_ is _dedicated to, but since I don't actually know that myself, I'll have to get back to you all on that one..._

_So anyway, sit back and relax. And I hope you enjoy my fiftieth update._

_Sean out..._

* * *

Harry stuck his head out the door and looked around cautiously.

The baby-headed Death Eater was screaming and banging into things, toppling grandfather clocks and overturning desks, bawling and confused, while the glass-fronted cabinet that Harry now suspected had contained Time-Turners continued to fall, shatter, and repair itself on the wall behind them.

"He's never gonna notice us," he muttered over his shoulder to Neville, "C'mon… keep close behind me".

They crept out of the office and back towards the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely empty, of both Death Eaters and allies. They walked a few steps forwards into the room, only for the door of the Time Room to swing shut behind them, the loud bang making Harry wince in pain. As the walls began to rotate again, he realised his head injury must be a lot worse than he'd first believed, the moving of the walls making him clamp his eyes shut and clench his jaw before he threw up dizzily.

When Neville nudged his shoulder, Harry opened his eyes and looked around again, biting back a curse as he realised Hermione's crosses had faded.

"So… which way d'you reckon we go?" Harry asked quietly, both of them jumping in fright as a door clicked open to their right, Harry's wand snapping up to point into the dark room beyond the door. "That one, I guess," he mumbled after exchanging an uncertain look with Neville.

Edging forward, Harry stuck his head into the dark room, flicking his wand and casting a weak _lumos_ so he didn't attract anyone's attention as he slowly stepped into the room. Jerking back as he saw movement, he mentally kicked himself as the movement jumped back as well, revealing it to be a large mirror in the middle of the small room.

"It's fine Neville," he declared as he increased the power of his _lumos_ charm, stepping into the room further, "You can come-" _bang_ "-in," he finished weakly as he turned to stare at the blank wall.

"Neville? Cool name".

Harry spun around again, his wand snapping up to aim at the tall teenager standing not to far away from him. "Whoa! That's a wand," the teenager blurted as he stepped back instantly, hands raising defensively as Harry stepped back himself, his mouth falling open slightly as he realised that teenager was standing _inside the mirror_.

"Hi," the teenager greeted, waving his hand awkwardly, "You're new".

When Harry only stared at the handsome teenager dumbly, the boy frowned hesitantly as he scratched at his bare stomach. Eyes widening in shock suddenly, the teenager fell over his own feet as he scrambled towards the bed Harry could see in the distance of the reflection. "Sorry!" the teenager called out, picking up the white shirt on the floor, "I was sleeping when you came in. I wasn't exactly expecting company, I mean they never give me company these days, it's always 'Do this' or 'Do that', there's never a 'Hello Stiles, how are you feeling today?' with these people," he rambled out as he pulled the shirt on.

"What's a Stiles?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself.

"I am. I'm a Stiles," the teenager introduced, raising his hand to shake Harry's only to freeze and blink down at their hands and then the glass of the mirror that was separating them. "Nice to meet you," he offered as he just pretended to shake his hand, 'Stiles' paused for a moment, staring at him expectantly, "This is where you say your name," he pointed out slowly.

"Huh? Oh! Uh, Harry! I'm- I'm Harry," he introduced stupidly, looking over his shoulder to the blank wall, guilt filling him as he realised that his friends were all out fighting for their lives without him.

Butterflies twisted in his stomach as Stiles beamed at him happily, instantly making him swear under his breath as he realised what was happening. This was _not_ the time to develop some pathetic crush on someone because they smiled at him. It had ended badly when Cho Chang had done it, it had ended even _worse_ when Cedric Diggory had done it, and Harry didn't want to know how badly _this_ could end up.

"Harry? Harry?" Stiles called out, pulling him from his thoughts. "I asked you what you were doing here?" the other teen explained slowly, "There are no teenagers wandering around the Department of Ministries. It's like a no-fly zone for teenagers".

"You're a teenager," Harry countered, something tugging at his chest as he watched Stiles' face fall.

"I'm a 'Dark creature'," Stiles corrected bitterly, making air quotes on 'Dark creature', "If I was a teenager, then they wouldn't have kidnapped and tortured me. It doesn't matter that I'm not Dark _or_ Evil, they just instantly assumed that because I'm part Trickster that I'm automatically the most darkest evilest of all dark evil things, and that I deserve this!" he exclaimed dramatically, his hands waving through the air as he gestured wildly. "I mean I know _countless_ people that are darker and eviler than I am, because I'm not! Dark and Evil that is. I mean my father's the _Sheriff_ for Talos' sake! Even if I were Dark and Evil then Dad would catch and kill me. Not literally, he'd just ground me or something, like for the rest of my life, he couldn't kill me, we're all we have left now". Stiles paused and shot the ground a devastated look, "And now I've been kidnapped, and he'll have no idea that I'm even still alive, that I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere".

Harry flinched as he stepped closer to the mirror, reaching out to press his hand against it, making Stiles blink back tears as he slowly copied him and held his palm against Harry's. "Who's your father? I… I can try send him a message?" Harry offered quietly, "Let him know where you are, maybe we could break you out?"

"You'd do that?" Stiles blurted, staring up into his eyes hopefully. "Wait, no!" he yelled, jerking away from Harry and backing up, "You can't. Dad's… he's a muggle, he only knows about magic because of Mom. If you told him, he'd come… he'd die, and I can't let that happen," he mumbled to himself.

"Okay, okay! I won't tell him," Harry promised as he watched Stiles beginning to panic, "Can… can _I_ get you out? Just me?" he asked slowly, both his conscious whispering in his mind and his 'saving people thing' urging him to try help the teen.

Stiles stared at him for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "They killed my body," he confessed weakly, "I've ascended to my spiritual form. Even if you got me out of this pocket dimension, I'd still be one hundred percent Trickster, no body to return to, I wouldn't be able to go back to my Dad".

Harry faltered for a moment, unable to stop the pity that bubbled up into his chest from showing on his face. "You'll still be free right?" he blurted as frustration flashed across Stiles' face, knowing instinctively that the other teenager hated being pitied as much as Harry himself did, "You'll be able to watch over your dad even if he can't see you?"

Stiles blinked at him in confusion, a familiar thoughtful look Harry recognised instantly from Hermione slowly crossing his face. "I guess…" he mused hesitantly, "But to do that I'd have to get out of here," Stiles pointed out slowly, a hopeful look forming on his face as he stared up at Harry.

"How? How would you get out of here?" Harry asked quickly, what Hermione called his 'saving people thing' kicking in at full power. He could help Stiles, he needed to help Stiles. The Ministry of Magic was even worse than he thought if they could imprison a teenage boy simply because they were a magical creature. After all, they tried to assassinate Harry because they were afraid to admit that he was telling the truth, so it was disturbingly easy to believe that they'd do _this_.

"Uh… I don't suppose there's a door handle on that side of the mirror?" Stiles asked innocently.

Snorting before he could stop himself, Harry watched as Stiles flailed his hands about wildly and began pacing back and forth behind the glass. "I can't penetrate through the barrier with _my_ abilities, and something tells me that _your_ magic won't either," he explained, "So maybe… physical force?" he offered with a shrug.

"Physical force? Like a spell?" Harry clarified uncertainly, making Stiles pause and shoot him a 'really?' look.

"No," Stiles drawled out sarcastically, "Physical force. Like that chair over there," he deadpanned as he pointed past Harry. "Smash the mirror, it's the best thing I can think of right now".

Nodding, Harry moved over to the chair by the desk and picked it up, holding it awkwardly as his attention was pulled to four glowing red gems inset into the top of the wall he'd entered through. "What're they?" he asked curiously, glancing over at a nervous looking Stiles.

"A timer," the pale boy admitted slowly, "When the fifth gem lights up at midnight, my mirror is moved back into the archives for five days of complete darkness and solitude. They're trying to break me," he confessed, his voice beginning to choke up. "I can't let them break me," he whispered to himself.

"Right, so I just smash the glass?" Harry blurted, realising that Stiles didn't have much longer before his mirror was moved.

"Sure?" the imprisoned teenager agreed awkwardly, "It's not exactly rocket science. Not that I understand rocket science either, I'm not Lydia," he babbled.

Tightening his grip on the chair, Harry stepped closer to the mirror and raised it, a startled yelp escaping his lips as pain burned through his scar. The chair falling from his hands, Harry himself fell to one knee, clutching at his head as Voldemort tried to force open the connection between them.

Fighting through the pain, Harry latched onto the chair as he heard the Dark Lord whispering in his mind, throwing himself forward and bringing the chair down upon the mirrored surface. Time seemed to stop for a second, before the world around him exploded and he was being thrown back into the wall, his head slamming into the stone bricks and his vision swimming.

"Harry? Harry!"

Pushing himself up with a groan, Harry rolled away from the wall and looked up at Stiles, only to freeze as the boy grinned at him coldly.

"It's a shame," Stiles purred, the boy somehow looking exactly like Harry, standing on the other side of the mirror, "You were so cute… and _so_ gullible," he finished as Harry's mind finally caught up with the fact that _he_ was now inside the mirror in Stiles' place.

"I can't believe you _fell_ for that," Stiles continued, grinning wildly as he started inspecting Harry's body. "When I possessed Stiles, my old host, he fought me to the point that he developed split personalities. But _you_? You just spread your arms and let me in, I actually _talked_ my way in, just like the old days," 'Stiles' murmured nostalgically.

"Stiles," Harry whispered, his mind otherwise blank as he stared at the Trickster inhabiting his body.

The Trickster… something told him that he should have expected this…

"No… Not Stiles," came the correction, "Stiles was strong, he left an imprint on my mind just as I left one on his, but I'm not Stiles," the Trickster admitted.

Before he could continue, the fifth red gem started glowing and Not-Stiles' hand rose to snap his fingers as he winked in Harry's direction.

"Harry?"

"Neville!" Not-Stiles exclaimed as a door appeared in the wall and it was blasted open to reveal Neville, Hermione, and Ginny standing there. "Ginny! Hermione!" Not-Stiles continued, "How did you get it open? You're not hurt, are you?" he questioned quickly as he rushed towards them, perfectly acting like Harry that even Harry himself would have been hard-pressed to notice the difference.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted, staggering towards the mirror and throwing himself at it, slamming his fists on the glass. "HERMIONE! IT'S NOT ME! HERMIONE!"

"We're fine, nothing permanent," Hermione assured Not-Stiles quickly, none of them apparently hearing Harry as Not-Stiles-Or-Harry pulled her into a hug. "We have to go, we can't hold the Death Eaters for long".

"We're too late, Voldemort's already here," Not-Stiles-Or-Harry blurted, "We need to find a way out of here".

"We figured out how to work the circle room," Ginny promised, "We were just waiting for you".

"WAIT!" Harry screamed, only Not-Stiles glancing towards him as the others hurried back into the main room where Harry could see Luna sitting over an unconscious Ron. "Who are you? What are you really?" he demanded as he glared at the smirking Trickster.

Not-Stiles twisted his face into a look of innocence, "Some people call me the Nogitsune, others call me Void. But them?" he asked as he hiked his thumb towards his friends, "To them I'm Harry Potter".

"No you're not," Harry hissed out as the Nogitsune made to close the door.

The Void grinned darkly at him, baring his teeth threateningly as Harry's emerald green eyes turned pitch black for a second. "I am now".

* * *

**MIRROR**

* * *

_This idea is one of the rare ones that I'm posting that _isn't _based off a challenge!_

_So for those of you that don't know, the Nogitsune/Void/Stiles is the Big Bad of Teen Wolf season Three (Which I unfortunately haven't watched. It's nearly impossible to get Teen Wolf in NZ, and I had to spend more than I was happy with to just get season one). It's a Dark Trickster that feeds on chaos, strife, and pain, and possesses Stiles to wreak havoc upon Beacon Hills. _

_**I don't own Harry Potter, OR, Teen Wolf.**_


	52. Pyre

Harry Potter stood off to the side as everyone tried to speak at once.

As much as he wanted it, he knew it wasn't right for him to demand attention right now, not with Mr Weasley quite possibly dying.

But he wanted… no… he _needed_ answers.

How had he seen the attack? While he was grateful that he had been able to warn people about it, he needed to know _how_. Sirius had just told him to report any dreams to Dumbledore, but Harry needed to know more than that.

He needed to know why and how he was having these dreams. And more importantly, he needed to know why he felt like he was _living_ the dream when the snake had attacked Mr Weasley.

"WHAT?"

Harry's attention snapped back to the conversation before him, Dumbledore tiredly standing there opposite a red-faced Ron. "Arthur Weasley, injured. Wife, children and Harry Potter coming to stay" the portrait Dumbledore was looking at rattled off, sounding disinterested. "Yes, yes. Very well" the portrait muttered petulantly as he turned and vanished into the frame.

"No!" Ron yelled, "_He_ isn't coming!" the redhead argued, jabbing a finger in Harry's direction. "You heard him! He attacked Dad! He's bloody gone Dark he has!"

"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore tried to interrupt, only for Ron to barrel straight over his voice and continue shouting.

"That freak attacked Dad! He can stay here and rot!" Ron continued, "He doesn't deserve to come with us when he did it!"

"MR WEASLEY!" Dumbledore roared, cutting the red-haired boy off as the door opened and Fred, George and Ginny slowly entered the room. "Mr Potter merely _saw_ the event. He did not harm your father in anyway. He sees Arthur as a surrogate father and would rather die than hurt him or your family".

"He's not family," Ron spat coldly, smirking at him when Harry flinched away.

"Harry? Ron?" Fred asked mid-yawn as Professor McGonagall shut the door behind her, "What's going on? Minnie said Dad was hurt?"

"_He attacked Dad!_" Ron yelled instantly, pointing at Harry.

"MR WEASLEY!" Dumbledore repeated angrily, "ENOUGH! Mr Potter had a vision of what I believe to be Voldemort's familiar attacking your father, Mr Weasley," the Headmaster explained slowly. "He's been found and is on his way to St. Mungo's as we speak. I want the five of you to portkey to Grimmauld Place where your mother will meet you," he instructed, "You'll be able to visit your father from there more conveniently than if you were to remain at Hogwarts".

"You stay away from my father!" Ron snapped, turning on Harry again.

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, "It wasn't his fault!"

"Bloody hell it is!" Ron shouted, "It's his fault that You-Know-Who even came back! And now he's killed Dad! It's all his fault!"

"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, his mouth moving before he could stop himself. "JUST SHUT UP!"

"Why?" Ron sneered, "The truth hurts don't it?"

Rage burst through his chest like liquid fire, the space between him and Ron warping and bending before lashing out, lifting the redhead off the ground and throwing him into the wall with a loud crack.

As Harry stood there dumbly, Ron shrieked and tugged at his pajama top as it smoked dangerously, the twins leaping forward and tearing it from his chest mere seconds before it burst into flames. Pain exploded through his head moments later and Harry staggered backward, collapsing against the wall as he clutched at his skull, the liquid fire moving from his chest and travelling rapidly through his veins into his brain.

"Harry!" hands grasped his arms, heat surging up inside him in response, causing the hands to release him with yelps of pain. "HARRY! CALM DOWN!" a familiar voice shouted in his ears, Harry's eyes flicking open for a second before the almost unbearable pain forced them shut again.

_Hadrian_

As the word floated through Harry's mind, he paid it no attention, instead struggling to control the raging inferno that had taken hold of his core.

_Calm yourself my son_

Harry's panicking mind snapped to attention as the voice spoke, a sense of shock filling him at the words 'my son'. Realising that the mere sound of the voice had allowed him some sense of control, Harry desperately wished that his father would keep speaking, not caring about _how_ his father was speaking to him at the moment.

_Hadrian. Listen to my voice, hear the power within it, hear the control I have. You can control this power, I wouldn't have gifted it to you if you couldn't._

Gifted it? It feels more like a curse, Harry thought as the fire continued to burn through his body. Part of him felt the fire swirling around his body, caressing it even as it burned at his surroundings despite the chill he could absently feel in the air.

_Control it Hadrian. Do not let it control you._

He was trying, but his errant magic was too strong for him. It hurt too much, his best friend was betraying him and he'd been suppressing his emotions for too long to hold it in any longer. The screaming he could hear around him made him double his efforts to control the fire, struggling as hard as he could to make the fire and his magic obey his commands and just stop.

_I do not command, I am the God of Fire, I __**will **__the fire to behave and it does. You can do the same my son._

Confusion flickered through him for a split second, the fire consuming it an instance later.

_I believe in you._

And that was it…

Harry felt it clicking into place in his chest, the fire dancing across his body being absorbed without hesitation and rejoining the bonfire he could feel that had ignited within his heart. It was still running through his veins, but it was like his father's words had flipped a switch inside him and the fire merely warmed him instead of burning him.

"Harry?"

Cracking his eyes open at the sound of the muffled voice, Harry jerked back in shock at the sight in front of him, a wall of ice so thick he could barely see light coming through it. "Harry?" Professor Dumbledore's voice called as Harry looked around to find he had fallen into a corner and was trapped in it by the wall of magical ice. "Harry, are you under control now?"

"Ye- Yes!" Harry stuttered out nervously. He had been terrified , and admittedly he still was, when the fire had been possessing him. He didn't want to think about what the Weasleys felt, the idea of terrifying them or - Hades forbid - hurting them, making him sick to his stomach.

Wait… _Hades _forbid? Where had that come from? He had long since exchanged 'God forbid' for 'Merlin forbid', but when had he ever heard someone using the name of the God of Death?

"Harry. Professor McGonagall and I will lower the shield, do you feel confident enough to control your emotions?" Dumbledore questioned slowly.

Could he control his emotions? No.

Could he control the fire? Unless someone was about to drop a bombshell on him then yeah… yeah he could control it.

"Yes Professor… I'm sorry," Harry replied hesitantly, fear flashing through him at the thought of being expelled for losing control like that. He knew that Umbridge wouldn't hesitate to use his loss of control like that as a sign of his 'instability' and twist it around into expelling him for the 'Greater Good'.

As he watched the wall of ice shrunk slowly, melting rapidly as the shapes of Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared through the wall. A flash of fire made him freeze in fear, standing stiffly as he realised it came from the other side of the ice wall, part of him afraid that he had already lost control and the fire was lashing out again.

"Fawkes is warning us," Dumbledore's voice murmured softly, "Professor Umbridge must know you're out of bed, she's on her way here. Minerva, go and te-" the Headmaster cut off suddenly, Harry fidgeting nervously as the silence dragged on. "Very well Fawkes. Go," the old man ordered.

Harry let out a yelp as fire exploded in front of his face, Fawkes the phoenix landing on his shoulder and trilling happily, the words '_Welcome brother'_ flashing through his mind before he and Fawkes were both surrounded in comforting fire and were gone.

His feet hitting the ground suddenly, Harry fell to his hands and knees onto the wooden floor, gasping for breath after the both beautiful and horrifying method of teleportation stole it from his very lungs. Energy rolled through his body as Fawkes sung happily, landing on the floor in front of him and watching him, the song numbing his pain at Ron's betrayal.

"A phoenix huh? How quaint".

Harry stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, nervously looking up to see a man lounging on a couch against the wall. The man's hair was wild and his goatee untrimmed, and he was glancing between Harry and the can of soda in his hands with curiosity and hatred respectively. "HEY! HORSE BUTT!" the man suddenly bellowed, making both Harry and Fawkes jump in fright, "SOME KID IN HIS PAJAMAS IS HERE TO SEE YOU!"

"What?" he asked defensively as he glanced down to see Harry staring at him in shock, "I ain't dealing with you. I hate kids," he explained before rolling over and showing his back to Harry.

The sound of hooves made Harry's jaw drop as he looked towards the open door in time to see a centaur stepping through it. "You could at _least_ show some manners," the centaur scolded, his tone of voice implying he'd told the wild man this multiple times before.

The man snorted, his back still to them as he raised his hand to pull the finger at the centaur. "Welcome to Camp," he called over his shoulder, "Try not to die, the paperwork is endless".

"Dionysus," the centaur began warningly.

"Fine! Fine!" 'Dionysus' exclaimed as he sat up and turned to face them. "I'm lying. There is no paperwork," he confessed simply, "Now get out of here before I turn you into a cabbage".

The centaur's face twisted into a scowl at the man, but he still trotted over to Harry and smiled gently at him. "I know you must be confused, but if you come with me I promise to explain everything to you".

Fawkes' soft trill snapped Harry out of his confused funk, making him scramble to his feet, his hands flexing nervously as he suddenly realised he had left his wand in his dorm room. Swallowing dryly, Harry realised he didn't have many options at the moment considering his current state of dress, and hesitantly followed the centaur from the room and into an office.

Catching sight of the setting sun through the window, Harry faltered as he wondered exactly where he was, the American accents on the two uh… men… making it obvious he was extremely far from home.

"Take a seat please," the centaur requested as Fawkes flamed into the room to perch on a jumping Harry's shoulder. "Ah, greetings again Fawkes. How has the pampered life been treating you?"

Sitting down and staring in confusion as Fawkes trilled back at the centaur, Harry resisted the urge to just demand answers, getting the feeling that losing his already damaged temper would be a bad thing for him. Chuckling at Fawkes' answer, the centaur finished digging through a desk and pulled out some forms which he placed in front of him, fixing Harry with an intense look.

"What's your name young one?" the centaur asked slowly, "I am Chiron. The Camp's Coordinator and Leader".

"Uh Harry," he replied dumbly, "I'm Harry".

"Well then Harry. Welcome, to Camp Half-Blood," Chiron said gently, "A place hidden from the rest of the world, a place for Demigods to train and be safe. Welcome Home".

* * *

**Pyre**

* * *

Hi everybody! This is just to celebrate the fact that the training course I'm taking is _almost_ over! I assure you that my posting will begin again properly when I'm not spending all day in the city.

I've had this story since the very beginning, it was actually my first draft for DZ2's Twice-Blessed Half-Blood challenge, but I had a better idea and abandoned this one. I've finally finished it despite my promise to avoid such crossovers for now, and while it's not applicable for the challenge, it's still something I'm happy with.

ALSO

Fair warning (And my final note for this chapter), I **might** be re-using this intro for another story I've got bouncing around. It merely became a matter of do I finish the thought before I lose it, or do I leave it for the new idea, and you can all guess which one I chose.

**I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson**


	53. Parabatai

On the 1st of September, as it was every year, Platform Nine and Three Quarters was a chaotic mass of bodies.

Moving in a buzzing hustle, a horde of parents led children, owls, and trunks across the platform and towards the shining red train. Their sons and daughters looking around for their friends, ignoring their parents who were reminding them to write often, all of them wondering what would happen in the coming year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Stepping through the barrier on her own, Hermione Granger moved to the side and quickly shrunk her trunk, slipping it into her pocket as she glanced around nervously before heading towards the train with her wand in one hand and Crookshanks' cage in the other.

Climbing aboard and peering up and down the hallways, Hermione made sure she couldn't see any of the people responsible for making her life at Hogwarts a living hell, before hurrying down the corridor towards the front of the train. Sitting near the Prefect's cabin usually meant that she and Neville were left alone, and on the rare occasion that _They _got to them, then the Prefects normally weren't too far behind.

Reaching the front of the train, Hermione threw open the door to her usual compartment and quickly slammed the door behind her, leaning against it with a loud sigh of relief. Now all she had to do was wait for Neville to arrive, before casting a compulsion charm on the door and hoping that it worked to redirect the most annoying people Hogwarts had ever seen.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Hermione opened her eyes and promptly froze at the sight of the teenagers already sitting in what she admittedly thought of as _her_ compartment.

"Oh," she exhaled softly, staring back at the black-haired boy who was glaring at her. "I'm sorry. Should I uh… should I go?" she asked dumbly, not at all prepared for the hostility the black-haired boy was showing her when they hadn't met before. She didn't look like a muggleborn did she? Hermione was normally careful to dress in fashions that wizards and witches favoured when going to magical areas.

"I don't really care," the boy admitted bluntly, returning his attention to the other teenager's hair, the brunet boy lounging across the entire seat with his head in the first one's lap. "As long as you're quiet".

Standing there awkwardly for a moment, Hermione glanced over her shoulder and out the window to the corridor. "You um, you don't mind if my friend joins us do you?" she asked softly, "Neville and I always sit together. I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger," she added as she mentally scolded herself for forgetting her manners.

"Hadrian. Hadrian Evans," the boy replied, not making a move to offer her his hand or even looking up from his softly snoring companion, combing and picking at his hair in a way that she could only describe as 'grooming'. "And as long as he's quiet, I don't care how many people you invite in here".

"Just Neville. He's my only friend anyway, so no-one else would want to sit with me," Hermione blurted, pausing for a moment and blinking in shock at how honest she was being with a complete stranger.

Shaking it off, Hermione set Crookshanks' cage down on the seat and then pulled out her trunk, unshrinking it and taking out the book of runes that she hadn't read yet. After levitating her trunk up to the luggage rack, Hermione sat back down and smoothed out her skirt, glancing up and freezing as she realised that Hadrian was studying her intently.

"You can let your familiar out of his cage," Hadrian offered slowly, "We're not allergic".

Staring at Hadrian in confusion for a moment, it took Hermione a couple of seconds to process what he had just said, straightening slightly and smiling thankfully as she reached out to undo the look on Crookshanks' cage. Reaching in to lift the large ginger cat out of the cage, Hermione wasn't prepared for him to thrash about suddenly, jumping from the seat where she dropped him straight onto the sleeping boy's stomach.

Moving to grab Crookshanks before he woke the light-haired teenager, she paused as the kneazle cross just curled up on his stomach and started purring like her father's motorboat.

"He'll be fine," Hadrian murmured, reaching out with his hand to scratch behind Crookshanks' ear, "It'll take more than that to wake Jared, he could sleep through the apocalypse itself".

"Right," Hermione mumbled, mentally kicking herself for feeling jealous of how quickly Crookshanks had apparently warmed up to the two boys. Fingers tapping on the cover of her book for a moment, she glanced around the compartment, searching for something to say that could break the ice properly. "So, Hadrian," she began hesitantly, his emerald-green eyes snapping from Crookshanks to her face, "I don't think I've ever seen you at Hogwarts before?"

"We moved here from… America" Hadrian explained simply, faltering only for a second. "Mom was called to England by an old obligation, and naturally we followed. And call me 'Harry', 'Hadrian' is just my formal name," he added as Hermione nodded in understanding.

"America? What school did you attend there? I only know of the Salem Institute, and that's a girl's only school," Hermione questioned curiously, only for the door to slid open so a tall brunet boy could trip into the compartment, slamming the door shut behind him with a panicked expression on his face.

As he spun around, his mouth moving silently, Hermione's eyes flicked guiltily to Harry in time to see him sliding his wand back up his sleeve. "Shut up," the black-haired boy demanded coldly, making Neville flinch back in shock as he finally realised someone had cast a silencing charm on him.

Mouthing what was obviously "I'm sorry," Neville quickly pulled his trunk out of his pocket and shot Hermione a hopeful look, making her draw her wand and unshrink it before levitating it up beside her own.

"Neville," Hermione began slowly after making sure that they hadn't accidentally woken Jared, "This is Harry Evans. He and his brother are transfers from America. Harry, this is Neville Longbottom, my friend".

Neville opened his mouth to speak but paused and shot Hermione a sheepish look, making her roll her eyes and flick her wand in his direction. "Uh, sorry. About before," Neville whispered guiltily, "But I saw Malfoy heading this way, and I guess I panicked".

As Harry murmured out a clearly reluctant greeting, Hermione quickly cast the strongest compulsion and notice-me-not charms she could manage on the door, hoping to keep Malfoy and the Slytherins away. With You-Know-Who's apparent return last year, as claimed by Albus Dumbledore and the Triwizard Champion Cedric Diggory, the Slytherins had become almost impossible to deal with. Hermione was fully aware that she was a 'mudblood', thank you very much, there was no need to remind her of that every single sentence.

"Harry Potter!" Neville suddenly exclaimed, making sleepy growls rumble from both Crookshank's and Jared's chests. "You're… you're Harry Potter," Neville repeated more quietly, making Hermione instantly start studying the other teenager.

He definitely had black hair and the emerald green eyes, 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts' _did_ say he had his father's hair and his mother's eyes, but other than that Hermione had no way of knowing whether he was or wasn't Harry Potter beyond the lack of the lightning bolt scar on his visible forehead.

"I go by Evans now," Harry corrected bluntly, confirming Neville's accusation as he sniffed and turned his head to stare out the window.

"Why?" Neville blurted dumbly, "And where did you go? You and your mum just vanished years ago".

"We moved," Harry said coldly, sending Neville a look that screamed 'Leave me alone' before glancing out the window as the train started moving away from the station.

"Who's he?" Neville asked, apparently not picking up on either Harry's unspoken or spoken orders to stop talking. "You don't have a brother. Our parents were friends, I would know if you had a brother".

"He's my brother," Harry growled out, a hostile look flickering across his face.

"Did your mum remarry?" Neville asked curiously.

"Neville," Harry ground out, his eyes seeming to glow for a moment, staring down Neville who finally caught on and shrunk away from him, "Shut up".

"So Harry," Hermione said quickly, trying to distract Harry from the annoyance she could see in his green eyes. "Do you know about the Hogwarts houses? Which one were you hoping to get into?"

* * *

"Granger".

Hermione barely resisted the urge to curse as she scrambled to catch her book, the sudden appearance of one of Hogwarts' new celebrities startling her from her book as Jared Evans sat opposite her.

"Oh don't have a heart attack over little ol' me," Jared drawled slowly, Harry's blonde 'brother' from the train last night somehow managing to look both lazy and elegant as he lounged in his armchair, hazel eyes watching her in amusement. "From what I've heard, Hogwarts would lose her brightest student if you were to snuff it," he continued as Hermione straightened up to scowl at him.

"Well I won't have a heart attack if you stop trying to scare me," she snapped defensively, her heart beat pounding in her ears as Jared just smirked.

"Trying? Who's trying?" he countered innocently, "A downworlder could have rampaged through here and you wouldn't have even twitched".

Fighting to resist the urge to pull a face at him, Hermione's mind finally caught up to his words, and she frowned instead. "What's a 'downworlder'?" she asked curiously.

Jared's face twisted into an angelic grin, one that made her instantly suspicious as he waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that," he said calmly, "Perhaps you could instead worry about escorting Harry and I to the Great Hall for breakfast?" he asked.

"No," Hermione refused without thinking about it, opening her book again and returning her attention to it.

One heartbeat passed…

Two heartbeats passed…

Three heartbeats passed…

Four heartbeats passed and Hermione peered up at Jared through her fringe to find that Harry had joined him silently and now both teens were staring at her expectantly.

"Oh fine!" she blurted before she could stop herself, a smug look flashing through Jared's eyes as she threw her book down and looked up at them both properly. "Good morning Harry," she said politely, promptly beginning to ignore the smirking Jared, "Did you sleep well?"

"The bed was too small and the redheaded boy snored," Harry said with a simple shrug, Hermione's eyes being drawn to a flicker of black beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves. "You kept kicking me," he added absently, lightly nudging a bored looking Jared in the side of the head.

"Maybe you should've laid still then dumbass," Jared muttered dismissively as he flicked through Hermione's book. "Where are the pictures?" he whined as she snatched it back and clutched it to her chest.

"Or maybe," Hermione began with a sniff, "You could just sleep in your _own_ beds".

"We've been sharing a bed since we were still in diapers," Harry snorted, elbowing Jared over and sliding down onto the seat as well. "And if I can't share a bed with my _parabatai _then what's the point in even having one?"

"_For whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge,_" both boys said simultaneously without looking at each other, as Harry kept studying Hermione and Jared was once again flicking through the book that he had somehow stolen from her arms without her noticing.

"Parabaiti? Whether thou goest?" Hermione repeated dumbly, feeling her eye beginning to twitch at the slang the boys were using.

"_Parabatai_," Harry corrected absently as he tugged the book from the other's hands and held it back out for her, "We are _parabatai_, bonded together for eternity before the Angel".

"You're… married?" Hermione exhaled slowly, trying and failing to imagine herself being married at the age of fifteen.

Almost instantly both boys started gagging and pulling faces, "He's my _brother_," Jared exclaimed looking sick, "That's just gross".

"It's a platonic bond," Harry assured her quickly, looking a little green as well, as Hermione felt herself flushing and shifting awkwardly in embarrassment. "So how about that breakfast?" he asked hopefully after a moment' pause, during which they all strived to avoid the other's eye.

"Right!" Hermione blurted, grateful for the distraction, "I'll just go get my things".

* * *

As he watched Hermione rushing towards the girl's dormitory, Harry let out a slow sigh, relaxing back into the armchair with Jared's comforting warmth squished against him.

"'So how about that breakfast'," his brother in all but blood muttered beside him, making Harry grimace at what he knew Jared was about to say. "Talk about smooth, Harry".

"Bite me," Harry snapped, scowling at his brother. The dark look quickly transformed into a guilty one as Jared just raised an eyebrow at him, "Sorry".

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to Hermione," Jared dismissed, "It's her mind that will be destroyed when the Clave find out she knows about us, all because you couldn't get your mouth shut. Telling her about the _parabatai_? Really?"

Shifting uncomfortably at the judging note in his distant cousin's voice, Harry grinned sheepishly at him instead.

"Sorry," he repeated defensively, "I'm not an actor".

"Not with that poker face you're not," Jared agreed as he wiggled out of the armchair, giving Harry the whole seat to spread out across. "Seriously Harry, we're not here to make friends," he reminded bluntly, "We're only staying long enough to kill their Dark Lord and vanquish his demon-buddies".

Harry snorted at his _parabatai_'s comment, "We're Shadowhunters, Jared, we hunt demons for a living, we _never _get to have friends".

* * *

**Parabatai**

* * *

Just in case it wasn't made obvious by their denial, this _isn't_ a slash story. Jared and Harry are truly nothing than soul-bound brothers, using the _parabatai_ concept from the Mortal Instruments.

Okay… so I've just finished reading the Mortal Instruments this afternoon on the bus home from work (Which is tiring, can't I just go back to high school?), and having the movie as well I couldn't resist writing a crossover idea like this.

Now, this story will _never_ be posted, since if I'm going to post one it's going to be completely different, I'm just trialling out the mashup.

_**I don't own Harry Potter or the Mortal Instruments.**_


	54. Traveler

Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself… he looked as white as Fudge, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry's face.

"Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure He's back? How did He do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, from me," said Harry. His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch pitch.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.

Opening his mouth to answer, Harry groaned as another wave of dizziness struck him. He could feel his body keeling over as his vision swam, a pair of hands roughly grabbing his shoulders and shoving him back into the chair, shaking him slightly to help him clear his head.

"What did the Dark Lord take?" Moody hissed angrily, electric blue eye still locked onto Harry's. "_What?_" he yelled as he shook Harry again, causing his head to snap back with a loud crack.

"Blood!" Harry yelped out, trying to reach up to stop Moody before he hurt him even further, fingers curling around the scarred man's wrists to hold them still. "He took my blood," he gasped, twisting his arm so the Professor could see his bloodstained forearm and the torn sleeves.

Moody stared at Harry for a moment, before letting out a slow breath as he released Harry's shoulders. "And the Death Eaters?" he pressed softly, "They returned?"

Still trying to catch his breath, Harry could only nod, trying to fight off another wave of sickness that struck him.

"How did He treat them?" Moody whispered quietly, "Did He forgive them?"

Harry shrugged weakly, mumbling a faint "I guess," as he closed his eyes and briefly wished he was in the hospital wing. He was pretty sure that the acromantula poison was taking effect now that his pathetic excuse for a duel with Voldemort had only sped up its deadly purpose. "There's a Death Eater, at Hogwarts," he forced out, his vision going blurry again, "Put me, in the Tournament".

"I know," came Moody's simple response as he reached out to steady the swaying Harry.

Hand coming up, Harry grasped onto the man's wrist, wanting to feel his body heat compared to his own rapidly chilling body. Instead of warmth however, Harry felt a sharp stinging pain as something surged through his body- _the door swung open with a flick of Moody's wand, the retired Auror edging towards the door suspiciously, only for an arm to appear in mid-air behind him. The Dark Mark gleamed in the light as a bolt of red magic flew from the tip of the arm's wand, striking Moody in the back and dropping him to the floor. An invisibility cloak was thrown to the side as a familiar brown-haired man rushed towards the fallen Moody, roughly tearing some hair out and shoving it into a flask on his hip. The man drank from it seconds later, his flesh bubbling and twisting until a clone of Moody was hobbling there, a blue eye and a leg less, but with a dark grin on his face instead _\- he flinched back from Moody with a coughing gasp, instinctively shoving the man away from him and knocking himself out of the chair to hit the cold floor.

Biting back a hiss of pain, Harry's hand snapped to his wand, which he aimed at Moody with a yelled "_Expelliarmus_!"

His red spell struck an invisible shield between the two of them as the polyjuiced Moody's wand flicked silently. "Stay away," Harry ordered, his head still swimming as he aimed his shaking wand towards the imposter, "Whoever you are, just stay away".

Not-Moody's head tilted to the side slightly as a calculating expression flashed across his twisted face. "Well, well well. How did you figure _that_ out Potter?" he asked tauntingly, "Not even that muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore, figured out that I wasn't his old friend".

"Who are you?" Harry countered, not entirely sure what that thing was that had shown him the truth was. "And where's the real Professor Moody?"

"Don't worry about him," Not-Moody dismissed with a smirk, "Worry about me instead, and worry about the Dark Lord. Now tell me, _did He forgive them_? Did He forgive the traitors that turned on Him and walked free?"

Probably very stupidly, Harry just clenched his jaw shut, trying to think of a way out of this situation and to where someone like Dumbledore could help him. He couldn't take on a fully-trained wizard on his own; he was only fourteen after all. Voldemort had mopped the floor with him, and he'd only used three spells.

"ANSWER ME!" Not-Moody roared, making Harry flinch back before he could help himself, a flash of light from Not-Moody's wand tearing his own from his hand and throwing it across the room. "Answer me, _now_".

"He forgave them," a male voice said as Not-Moody was blasted off his feet, his wand clattering to the ground as he slammed into the wall, pinned there by the outstretched hand of the brown-haired man standing by the door. "Once he was sure that they were still truly loyal, he forgave them," the man continued as he stepped forward with a smirk. "You alright Harry?" he asked out of the blue, making Harry jump with the suddenness of it.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," Harry lied automatically, looking between Not-Moody, the brunette and where his wand was lying against Moody's trunk.

"No you're not," the brunette corrected instantly, "Are you alright?" he repeated patiently.

"I'm confused, and my head hurts," Harry admitted slowly when the brunette shot him an expectant look.

"Figures, your visions always hurt you for some reason, never found out why actually," the brunette murmured softly before shaking his head. "How rude of us Bartemius," he apologized to the polyjuiced Death Eater still pinned to the wall, "Here, let me help".

Before Harry's eyes, the man lowered his hand and snapped his fingers, a ball of crackling lightning appearing floating above his palm. Lashing out, the man hurled the ball at 'Bartemius', striking him in the chest before the Death Eater even hit the ground and tearing a scream from his mouth as lightning danced across his body before he fell limp.

"He's still alive," the man assured him as Harry stared in horror, "He'll need to be for when Fudge comes for him. I just knocked him out so we could talk".

"Who are you?" Harry blurted, torn between awe at the man's wandless magic and terrified of his power.

Familiar emerald green eyes locked onto Harry's own as the man's face twisted into an even more familiar smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out Harry," the man said quietly before his smile vanished and was replaced by a determined look. "You can't tell anymore what happened tonight," he ordered briskly.

"What? I have to!" Harry argued, snapping out of his confusion and into anger instead, "They have to know he's back!"

The man raised his hand and Harry shut up instantly, leaning away as the hand was aimed his way. "You're right, they need to know he's back," the man confirmed, "But they don't need to know about the vision you just had," he explained calmly as he lowered his hand. "They don't need to know about the way you slipped your bonds tonight, how you rippled and were suddenly standing elsewhere," he pressed, "They can't know, they'll sentence you to the Dementor's kiss within seconds if they did. Do you understand me?"

"But I-"

"_Do you understand me_?" the man interrupted loudly, "Harry, I'm not joking. They'll kill you, you _can't_ tell _anyone_".

"My friends," Harry began.

"_Harry!_" the man shouted, "_You can't tell anyone!_"

He stared at the man for a moment, catching sight of the fear in his eyes. Swallowing nervously, Harry just nodded silently. He hadn't been going to tell anyone anyway, he knew Ron would see it as just the Boy-Who-Lived being 'special', while Hermione would want to research it and tell the Professors about it.

"It wasn't accidental magic was it?" he whispered to the man, "I thought I'd just accidentally apparated away from the statue".

"It's not accidental magic," the man confirmed, "I'll explain everything to you when things calm down, I promise you I will".

"How can you promise me anything when you won't even tell me your name? How am I supposed to trust you?" Harry countered bravely, something telling him that the man would never hurt him.

Running his hands through his gravity-defiant hair, the man bit his lip in a familiar gesture. "Perry, call me Perry," he decided after a moment's pause.

"Well then, Perry, what's your real name?" Harry asked instantly.

'Perry' just blinked at him in shock before letting out a snort and grinning at him, shaking his head slightly. "Perry was the name of my best friend growing up," he admitted slowly, "I can't tell you my real name, I'll explain why later," he said quickly as Harry opened his mouth to argue, "I'll explain why, but I won't tell you what it is".

The sound of something exploding at the door made Harry flail and jump, scrambling away from Perry as the man calmly glanced at the door. Throwing himself across the floor, Harry grabbed his wand and sent a stunning spell in Perry's direction, watching as the man rippled out of the way of the spell that struck Not-Moody instead.

"I'll come see you when I get the chance," Perry promised, reappearing in front of the door as another explosion sounded, "Remember. Don't tell anyone, not even Hermione".

With a lazy wave of his hand over his shoulder at the door, Perry winked at him before rippling away again, leaving the door to shatter into thousands of pieces as Dumbledore burst into the room flanked by McGonagall and Snape.

* * *

Sighing as he looked around his bedroom, Harry resisted the urge to scream as he pushed away from the door and threw himself onto his bed.

He couldn't believe them! After everything he did for them, they were constantly turning on him with the slightest change in the wind. Why would he lie about Voldemort's return? What could he possibly have to gain from it?

Growling under his breath, Harry rolled onto his side to focus on Hedwig's closed cage, her perch sitting beside it. He needed to calm down, getting angry wouldn't help him at all. If anything, getting angry would only make things worse.

Raising his hand into the air, Harry thought briefly about Peter Pettigrew's betrayal, energy pulsing through his chest as electricity arced from the palm of his hand to form a ball of lightning. Sitting up and leaning against the wall, Harry gently gripped the lightning ball in his hands. It was just like the one the man, Perry, had conjured, only Harry's looked a little more wild and a little less controlled.

It was also explosive, as Harry had found out when trying to get rid of it the first time he'd made one. He'd accidentally thrown it at a mirror in his dormitory bathroom, and it'd shattered all of them as well. And then the second time he'd blown up the bathroom door. Thankfully mending charms had fixed all the damage, and no one had been in the dorm to bear witness, so Harry's secret had remained that for a while longer.

Not that even Harry knew what his secret was, Perry hadn't shown up yet. He'd promised to explain everything and then hadn't came back.

"Impressive".

Speak of the devil.

Moving quickly, Harry hurled the lightning ball at Perry, snatching up his wand from his bedside table and turning it on the bemused man who had merely caught the lightning ball.

"Not bad," Perry said slowly as he inspected the lightning ball before crushing it in his fist, "A little rough around the edges, but not bad".

Looking up and smiling at Harry, Perry raised his hand and gestured, Harry's wand vanishing in a ripple and appearing in the hand of the person Harry now thought to be even more annoying than Draco Malfoy. "You won't be needing this," Perry explained with a smirk as he pocketed Harry's wand, "But you _will_ need to forgive me for taking so long to get back to you, the sisters had their identities stolen and I had to spend ages cleaning up after them. They're useless, I tell you," he said plainly as he pulled Harry's desk chair out and collapsed into it.

"Now, you had questions?" Perry asked innocently.

He had questions? He had questions? Of _course_ he had bloody questions! Another ball of lightning crackling into appearance in the palm of his hand, Harry just glared at Perry angrily.

"Calm down, Harry," Perry ordered bluntly, "Energy balls are triggered through anger, you need to learn to control your anger before you can control your powers".

"And what powers are they, exactly?" Harry ground out, "Ever since Voldemort's return. I've been having these visions, I've been creating 'energy balls', and I've been randomly teleporting around Hogwarts! Add to that how it feels like I'm getting angry twice as easily, I think calming down is easier said than fucking done!" he shouted at the amused looking man.

"I said, _calm down_," Perry repeated soothingly, "I also said I'd explain everything remember? Now if you calm down, I can get started".

Wanting nothing more than to chuck the energy ball in his hand at Perry, Harry clenched his jaw and then his fist, feeling the energy from the energy ball trickling back into his body. "Then get started," he ordered coldly, slowly crossing his arms and fixing Perry with his strongest glare.

"I know you don't like round-about answers, Harry, so I'm just going to tell it to you straight," Perry began as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "And I need you to keep quiet and let me finish, because it's going to sound crazy. But it's absolutely true".

"I'm still waiting," Harry snapped angrily, making Perry sigh and shake his head.

"I'm from the future, the year 2024 to be precise. I've travelled back to stop the Ultimate Source of all Good Magic from turning Evil. These powers of yours are the only ones capable of fighting the aforementioned Source of All Evil, but because in the original timeline you told your friends and Headmaster about them you lost more than half of them and thus aren't able to beat the Source and overthrow his reign of terror," Perry explained all in a single breath.

Blinking slowly at the man, Harry could only ask "What?"

Rolling his eyes, Perry tried again. "_I'm_ a time traveler sent back in time to stop the end of the world," he said bluntly, "_You're_ the half-demon with the power to stop the end of the world from happening".

"Time traveler… half-demon… end of the world? So I'm guessing the insane asylum doesn't have anti-magic ward surrounding it?" Harry asked slowly.

* * *

**Traveler**

* * *

_Right. So this story is just something that I apparently dreamed up since it was on my mind this morning. It's likely to be extremely messy, since I've taken all days to chuck bits and pieces down when the mood hit me._

_Internet cookies to those who know who Perry really is..._

**I don't own Harry Potter or Charmed.**

* * *

**And now for the good news! Pandemonium is going to be updated within DAYS!**


	55. Power

He could hear a lift clattering ahead; he sprinted up the passageway, swung around the corner and slammed his fist onto the button to call a second lift.

It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked 'Atrium'. The doors slid open and he was rising…

And he was calm. There was an almost loving presence filling his body, Harry's eyes fluttering shut as he felt a warm sense of family he'd only felt when with Sirius. The warmth was washing away all traces of anger towards Bellatrix… towards Sirius… and made him want nothing more than to head back downstairs and hug Lupin, the only member of his family he had left.

Harry almost did it too, he almost let Bellatrix go, up until he heard the Dark Witch's cackle echoing down the lift and making the hair on the back of his neck rise up.

She killed him… She killed Sirius…

He wasn't going to let her go, he was going to kill her back.

The sense of family that was centred in his chest seemed to let out a sigh, regret flooding it for a moment before Harry was gasping as a second wind hit him, energy and magic zipping through his body like he was fit to burst at the seams.

Flicking his wand silently as the lift came to a stop, Harry forced the grille open with a bang, launching himself out before the doors had even fully opened. Looking about, Harry saw Bellatrix sliding into the telephone lift, rolling over to smirk at him and wave her hand mockingly.

"_Accio Bellatrix"_

Even as the words left his mouth, Harry watched as Bellatrix's smug expression transformed into horror as his magic tore her from the telephone-lift and dragged her across the floor. Throwing himself to the side as a familiar acid-green curse flew from the end of Bellatrix's wand, Harry landed behind the fountain, continuing to roll so that he could jump to his feet and send a curse back at the Dark Witch… who was no longer there as his blue spell splashed harmlessly against the tiled floor.

Feeling his entire body tensing as Bellatrix's laugh once more filled the air, Harry looked around suspiciously, a spell waiting on his tongue for just a glimpse of the black-haired witch. Just a glimpse would do, the spell that Umbridge had so 'helpfully' taught him earlier that year would need only a glimpse of Bellatrix to work.

"_AVADA-"_ Bellatrix began as she stepped out from behind a pillar, _"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"_ Harry screamed before she could finish the spell, the second word of the spell becoming a piercing shriek of pain as his spell hit the pillar beside him and launched her through the air with the force of the explosion. Automatically sending the same spell after her, Harry barely had time to dodge as Bellatrix reflected his own spell back at him, the witch using his distraction to pull herself onto her feet.

His wand snapping up, Harry glared down it at Bellatrix, the woman looking like she was enjoying the duel even as she favoured her left side. The two of them standing opposite one another, resembling the old 'Mexican Stand-offs' he'd seen on TV, neither of them seemed willing to make the first move.

The sound of the lift clanging as it reached the Atrium was all they needed, a single flash of green and a single flash of blue reaching the darkest parts of the Atrium as their spells flew past the other and struck their targets in the chest.

Hitting the ground, Harry bit back the urge to vomit as he gasped for breath, the Killing Curse somehow making him feel like he just wanted to curl up and sleep for a year or two. Fighting his drooping eyes, Harry looked up at Bellatrix, the Dark Witch blinking at him in shock as her mouth opened and closed silently. Almost as if it had been waiting for him to look, her body hit the ground, falling in two different directions as his slashing curse separated her torso from her legs.

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore's voice murmured through the dual pride and disgust the black-haired boy felt at realising he'd gotten revenge for Sirius.

Looking over at the ancient wizard as he forced himself to his feet, Harry looked up and froze, his eyes locking onto the person standing not that far beyond Dumbledore. "Sir!" he blurted, making Dumbledore smile sadly at him, the ever-present twinkle gone from his eye as he shook his head sadly.

"I know, my boy," the Headmaster assured him, "Tom has always loved a dramatic entrance".

Before he'd even finished that sentence Dumbledore was whirling around, his wand cutting through the air to turn the ball of fire Voldemort had summoned into a swarm of butterflies that fluttered past him harmlessly.

Moving forward to help, Harry yelped as a ripple from Dumbledore's wand lifted him off his feet and threw him down the Atrium, sliding him into a corner away from the battlefield. What? He could help! Maybe he wasn't as powerful as either Dumbledore or Voldemort, but he'd already done it twice, and there was no way the Dark Lord could fight them both.

Before Harry could stand up however, the feeling of family was back, wordlessly urging him to remain where he was. _Soon_, it seemed to say, _Soon_. And this time Harry listened, letting himself sink back into the feelings it carried with it. It was strange, he didn't know who or what the presence was, yet for some reason he found himself trusting it inexplicitly. Was it mad… that as the presence cooed and caressed, that all he felt was '_Mum_'?

Slowly making his way to his feet, Harry turned to watch the fireplaces across the Atrium from him, the presence's urging making sense suddenly as they burst into life. As Minister Fudge was the first to step out of the flames, Harry saw from the corner of his eye, Voldemort turning to cast a Killing Curse at the Minister of Magic. Moving before either Harry or Voldemort could react, Dumbledore had spun about to stab his wand at the Minister's feet, causing the tiled floor to explode up to form a wall to take the curse.

And then Voldemort moved.

A sickly-yellow looking blade of energy flew from Voldemort's wand slicing straight through Dumbledore's wand arm, dropping the old man to his knees with an almost silent cry of pain.

_Go_

As Voldemort raised his wand, sparks erupting from the tip, Harry moved. Lightning erupting from the Dark Lord's wand, he dove in front of Dumbledore, hands raising to the lighting bolt.

And then he caught it.

Staring at the lightning bolt held taunt between his hands, Harry blinked slowly as he felt everything slowing down. Behind him he could hear Dumbledore's laboured breathing, over by the fireplaces he could hear the Minister's shocked "Dear Merlin, it's _him_!", and across the Atrium he could hear Voldemort's shocked intake of breath.

Looking up at the slightly fearful Voldemort, Harry knew without prompting that his eyes had turned charcoal-black. The presence moved as Harry's eyes narrowed, feeling his mouth moving without his permission to let out a tutting sound as his head shook slowly. "Now, now, Tom," the presence said in his voice, "That wasn't very nice".

Twisting on the spot, Harry hurled the lightning bolt back at the Dark Lord, moving of his own free will with the presence whispering instructions in the back of his head. Using his momentum, Harry pulled his hand back and thrust it through the air, releasing a pulse of near-invisible energy that struck Voldemort in the chest as he deflected his own lightning bolt to the side. Still moving, Harry's other hand drew back, a swirling mass of the same nearly invisible energy forming in his palm before he lashed out.

As the Dark Lord whirl-winded away in a plume of black smoke, Harry turned, barely throwing his hands up for in time for the same yellow curse that downed Dumbledore to be deflected off his forearm with a ripple of power. Staring at his forearm in shock, Harry looked between it and Voldemort in confusion, quickly raising it again as the Dark Lord threw another curse at him, watching as it harmlessly bounced off the small ripple that covered his arm.

Flinching back as another curse flew at him, Harry moved on instinct, blocking and deflecting each spell Voldemort threw at him with his rippling hands and forearms. Finally Harry managed to reflect a spell back at Voldemort, causing the Fountain of Magical Brethren to explode into eerie green flames when the Dark Lord dodged it.

"My turn," the presence said through him, as he conjured another ball of power, pulling his arm back and throwing it at Voldemort. Not giving Voldemort the time to react, Harry lobbed a second ball, followed by a third and then a fourth at the Dark Wizard.

The presence surged up inside him for a moment, directing Harry's hands to rise and clap together suddenly. "Goodbye, Tom," the presence said, before tearing his hands apart and causing the air behind Voldemort to shimmer and crackle, a tearing sound filling the air as the space tore to reveal a fiery hell-like landscape. "No amount of horcruxes can save you now," it added as Harry drew his arms back and fired the strongest ball of force he'd managed that night at the Dark Lord, shattering Voldemort's quickly conjured shield and blasting the snake-man into the portal which closed behind him automatically.

Breathing heavily as his hands dropped to his sides and he fell to his knees, Harry slowly turned his head to stare at Dumbledore, the old wizard staring at Harry with a strange mixture of recognition, sorrow, and understanding. Still feeling the presence within him, Harry hesitantly raised his hand and gestured in Dumbledore's direction, letting out a stuttered gasp as power surged through him and the Headmaster let out a whimper of pain, his hand regrowing from the stump.

_Don't get used to this power, my son, your brother needed to be removed_.

"Harry," Dumbledore rasped out slowly.

"AURORS! ARREST THEM!" Fudge's voice rang out, making Harry's head snap around to stare at the terrified looking wizard.

"Aurors!" a familiar voice interrupted, "Escort the ex-Minister to a holding cell, pending investigation of corruption". Harry watched in shock as Madame Bones pushed to the front of the crowd, "As we all saw tonight, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was _clearly_ back from the dead, despite the Minister's claims otherwise. An investigation must be made into whether Cornelius was aware of this and was working _for_ the Dark Lord, or whether he was merely being pig-headed".

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered again, the old man having stood up slowly. "Go, trust in your mother, she will lead you right".

_Smart man… he's used my gift well._

Before Harry could question either the Headmaster or the presence… his 'mother'… power was surging up around Harry and a shimmer engulfed him. After a split second of being totally cut off from his senses, nothing but a never ending blackness surrounding him, his senses came rushing back to reveal him kneeling in the middle of a brightly lit forest in front of a stream.

"_I, Hecate; Goddess of Magic, claim thee, Harry James Potter, as my son and Heir,"_ the presence in his chest announced, sounding through his mind and somehow through the air around him.

_You have a powerful gift, my son, use it well_.

* * *

**Power**

* * *

_So this is just a small response to DZ2's prompt on his challenge forum, I'm not sure where it's going exactly, and all I know is that I've watched 'The Covenant' recently so if you recognise Harry's powers then yup... he's basically a Warlock._

**_I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson._**


	56. Tough Love

When Harry woke, it was with a false sense of security, one usually only generated by him falling asleep at Hogwarts or at the Burrow.

Staring up at the powder blue ceiling that belonged to neither Hogwarts or the Burrow, listening to the quiet breathing of the four other teenagers sleeping in the beds opposite his, he realised something simple.

He hated that feeling, he hated how _fake_ it was.

He wasn't in Hogwarts, and he wasn't in the Burrow. He was somewhere else, surrounded by people he didn't know, people who were apparently his brothers and sisters. He hated how he'd been swarmed yesterday when Dumbledore had portkeyed them to a quiet hill with an archway with _'Camp Half-Blood'_ carved on it. He hated how his 'siblings' had just taken it for granted that he was 'one of them', that his old life didn't matter any more, that his mother (who wasn't his mother) was nothing more than a stand-in for a Goddess that Harry didn't believe in.

Lily Potter had sacrificed herself so that he could life… Aphrodite had abandoned him for fifteen long years.

Five guesses who the 'Mother of the Year' award went to.

Letting out a slow sigh as movement made him glance over, Harry made sure his 'half-brothers' were still sleeping before he quietly kicked his blankets back and slipped out of bed. Quickly opening his trunk and grabbing the first shirt he saw, he couldn't help but let out a low growl as it shimmered for a moment and the simple polo-shirt changed into an elegant black tunic. After the next three shirts turned into the exact same thing, Harry gave up and changed out of his pyjamas and into the black tunic and the 'skinny jeans' (which, to put it bluntly, felt like they were crushing his man-parts) that his 'mother' apparently insisted he wore.

Pulling on his quidditch boots which Aphrodite must have approved of (part of him feared this was only because quidditch boots were thigh-high), Harry snatched up his wand and the holster Professor Dumbledore had given him before returning to the school, attaching them to his forearm beneath his sleeve.

Looking up at the ceiling, which oh Merlin _sparkled_, Harry couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and hiss out a sarcastic "Am I pretty?"

Unfortunately for him the response was a cloud of red smoke that engulfed him, reminiscent of yesterday when Aphrodite had claimed him, Harry unable to stop the high-pitched whimper that escaped his lips when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. "Make up? Really?" he whined, shooting the ceiling a lost look, "I take it back. Please?"

Letting out a sigh of relief when the red smoke returned to remove all but the lipstick on his lips (which was strawberry flavoured for some reason), Harry made a run for the door, slipping out of the bedroom he shared with his male siblings and freezing at the sight of the half-dozen pyjamaed girls (and the pyjamaed form of Mitchell, his other brother) who were all splayed about the cushions gathered in front of the fireplace in what Harry imagined was the typical 'sleepover position'. Swallowing nervously as he managed to shut the door silently, he tried to sneak past them all towards the door to the outside, and to freedom.

Fingers curling around the door handle, he couldn't help but curse under his breath as he heard a sleepy "Harry? Where're you going?" cutting through the otherwise silent room.

Glancing over his shoulder at his waking siblings, Harry decided to just risk it, throwing the door open and breaking into a run across the gardens between the cabins. If there was only one thing he knew about his 'family' after half a day of being forced to listen to gossip about fashion and 'babes', was that they would _never_ risk chasing after him and being seen by others in their pjs.

Merlin… this place was going to drive him crazy. Even if Harry were a demigod, then why couldn't he be the son of a God or Goddess that was… cooler? He'd seen some of the sons of Apollo; God of the Son at the archery range during his tour yesterday, and then there were the children of Ares; God of War, who were rather intimidating with their heavily armoured forms and their _huge_ weapons. But no… he had to be the Son of Aphrodite? And er, no offence to any homosexuals out there, but the other five Sons – his brothers – all seemed rather faggy. Half-way through introducing himself, Mitchell had broken down into a complete panic _because his_ _nail polish had smudged_. Two more of his brothers had been fiddling with their hair, another had been reading something called a 'Vogue', and his final brother had been writing _love poems_.

And Harry, with his quidditch and his fashion sense so disturbed that it made Voldemort's black robes look stylish, didn't fit in with them one bit.

Sliding into cover behind the cabin he was certain belonged to the children of Hermes, Harry peered back towards his own cabin and sighed in relief when he only saw the door slamming shut. Shaking off what Hermione referred to lovingly as his 'Harry-Angst', he pushed away from the cabin and started sneaking across the garden, knowing from yesterday's tour that the mess hall was on the opposite side of the cabins to where he was.

However, as Harry's luck would have it, he'd barely passed Apollo's golden cabin before he was being surrounded by grinning demigods. The looks on their faces, and the way they all deferred to the big guy leading them instantly reminding him of Dudley and his little 'gang', causing him to bite back a groan of annoyance as he realised he'd never really be free of people who thought themselves superior to him for some reason or another.

"Well, looky here boys," the guy leading what were obviously the children of Ares, "The new guy's saved us the trouble of hunting us down. How nice of him".

"Yeah, well I don't like to be difficult," Harry countered automatically, his fingers twitching with the urge to draw his wand even as he scouted out the area around him in case he had to run.

"I bet you don't," the leader agreed smugly, "Talk about easy".

Wait what? Harry's eyes narrowed as the demigods laughed. Did that guy just call him easy? Oh he was _so_ going down first.

"I bet you talk about easy a lot," Harry's mouth countered before he could stop it, "You seem the type to talk about himself".

The children of Ares froze, a couple of them looking impressed as they glanced between Harry and their glaring leader. "What did you just say?" the older teen growled out

"I said, 'You're easy'," Harry repeated, "Well actually I just paraphrased myself," he corrected as his inner-Hermione pointed out the difference. "I guess I should have said it simpler though, since apparently your reading level is also set to 'easy'".

Dammit! Shut up Harry!

Drawing his bronze sword, the leader stepped forward with an ugly look on his face, "We _were_ going to introduce you to the Camp toilets," he snarled out "But now I'm just going to hurt you".

As the leader lunged for him Harry felt years of quidditch-honed reflexes kicking in instantly, guiding him out of the way of the demigod's swing, and then letting his bitterness at being called 'easy' step him back in to drive his fist into the boy's crooked nose. Still moving on some kind of instinct, Harry lashed out with his foot and drove his hardened quidditch boots into the demigod's elbow, a yell of pain filling the air as the bronze sword fell straight into Harry's waiting hand.

"You know that saying," Harry began as the leading Son of Ares fell to his knees before him, "'I'm a lover, not a fighter'? Yeah, that doesn't apply to me so much," he confessed as he pulled the sword back and drove its hilt into the demigod's face, making him drop limply to the grass.

"So," he asked as he stepped over the unconscious demigod, shifting his grip on the bronze sword to make it more comfortable, "Who's next?"

Apparently they all were…

Jumping back to avoid them all, Harry almost tripped over their fallen leader, bringing his new sword up as if by instinct to block the closest demigod, causing the sound of metal striking metal to cut through the quiet morning air. Moving lightly to the side and slashing back at the demigod, Harry tried his best to ignore his guilt as he opened up a gash on the boy's face, the injury thankfully only looking superficial as he sunk his foot into the boy's stomach to knock him away. Blocking another attack, Harry found himself thanking whichever God was listening that his usual magical fighting abilities somehow managed to translate across to physical combat without any issues.

Resisting the urge to pull his wand and add magic to the mix (since some part of him wanting to take them down in a fair fight, magic being 'cheating'), Harry just kept backing away from the flowers and bushes and onto one of the basketball courts, knowing that having more stable footing would help keep him standing for even longer. Ducking a swing that had _definitely_ been aimed for his neck, Harry lashed out and drove his booted foot into the boy's manhood, refusing to feel any guilt about that at all when the other had just tried to kill him.

"Cheat!"

"There are," Harry paused to block and stab at a female child of Ares, "_Six_ of you, and _one_ of me! All's fair in love and war!"

Huh… where were all these lover/fighter comments coming from? Although… all's fair in love and war? He liked the sound of that.

"And," he continued as swapped the sword to his other hand so he could draw his wand with his dominant one, "This _is_ war".

Raising his wand to point it at the daughter of Ares with the spear, Harry flicked his wand and watched ropes exploded from its tip to wrap around the girl's arms and legs, dropping her to the floor as Harry knocked the guy's sword to the side with the flat of his blade before promptly stunning him.

Turning to face the final standing demigod, Harry raised both his wand and the sword expectantly, his eyebrow shooting up as he watched the boy backing away nervously. Faking a charge, he watched in amusement as the teenager tripped over his own feet in an effort to get away, looking around the five fallen groaning demigods as a slow grin formed on his face.

Oh yeah… he was awesome.

Returning his wand to its holster, Harry stabbed the sword into the ground near its owner and glanced around, freezing as he realised that perhaps half of the camp were gathered around the doors of their cabins staring at him. Flinching as someone started clapping suddenly, Harry jumped as Mitchell appeared beside him out of nowhere, their eldest sister Silena popping up as well to pull Harry into a hug and lift him into the air with an excited squeal as an applause echoed between the cabins.

As he was finally set down, the rest of Aphrodite cabin swarming around him, all of them talking excitedly, Harry glanced down at his tunic when it was plucked on. Mouth falling open as he saw the large gash cut across the chest of his tunic, revealing his bare chest beneath it, Harry couldn't help but feel a little angry as he let out a growl.

"Dammit! This was my favourite tunic!"

* * *

**Lover and a Fighter**

* * *

Okay, so this is two in one night, so I'm pretty pleased with myself. This is inspired by the 'I'm a Lover' challenge that was inspired by this idea, which was inspired by the prompt of the previous chapter... yeah, my head hurst just thinking about it.

Anyway, the idea of this challenge was to have a Harry who is the Son of Aphrodite, who isn't a - excuse my language - queer little fuck... Harry is going to be badass, end of story.

**I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson**


	57. The Book

One wild card ride later, and Harry was standing on the front steps of Gringotts, blinking in the nearly blinding sunlight.

Hand brushing up against the pocket containing his bulging pouch of galleons, Harry looked around for some hint of where he should run to first, the gold in his pocket singing for him to spend it all. He may not have known how much galleons there were to a 'muggle' pound, but he knew that he had more money in his pocket alone than he'd had his entire life… and he had more money in his vault than the Dursleys could ever dream of.

And either Harry was going insane, or the gold was also chanting quietly as well as singing… thrumming through his ears was this voice chanting in a language he couldn't recognise, something in his blood itself _begging_ for him to follow the voice.

"Might as well get yer uniform," Hagrid said slowly, gesturing with a massive hand towards a store called _'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions'_. "Listen, Harry," the large man added nervously, "would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a quick pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate 'em Gringotts carts".

"Huh?" Harry asked dumbly, finally pulling his mind away from the chanting long enough to recognise the huge man had spoken.

Hagrid blinked at him for a moment before sighing, "Yeh head in fer yeh robes," the man instructed as he pointed at Madam Malkin's, "I'm off fer a moment or two. I'll be back, promise, just have a quick errand to run".

"Oh, right," Harry murmured, head swinging around to stare in the direction the chanting was coming from. "I'll see you soon then Hagrid".

"Right," Hagrid agreed, Harry ignoring what he said next in favour of setting off in pursuit of the enthralling chant.

Dismissing the way that Hagrid was calling after him, Harry kept moving in the direction of the voice, something deep inside his chest almost… almost _purring…_ at the unfamiliar language. Weaving through the crowd with an experience learned from avoiding people back at school, Harry eventually found himself standing in front of a run-down building with faded paint, the door tucked into the alleyway between a shop selling supplies for a sport called 'Quidditch' and a store selling stationary items like quills and ink.

Swallowing nervously as he moved down the alleyway, Harry pushed open the door, flinching at the loud tingling of the bell above it. Opening his mouth to ask if anyone were around the seemingly empty store, Harry froze as he realised the volume of the chanting had increased ten-fold, his eyes darting straight to an alcove that had been curtained off by what seemed to be the skin of a deer. After looking around for the store's owner one more time, Harry steeled himself and headed towards the alcove and the chanting behind it, raising a hand to the deer-skin and pulling it back before he could chicken out.

There, resting on a tall podium Harry wasn't even sure he could reach, was a book.

Covered in large pitch-black scales and without a title or any form of writing on it, the book was thick and looked so old Harry would turn it to dust with a poorly aimed sneeze.

And more importantly, it was the source of the loud chanting that occupied the entirety of Harry's thoughts.

Stepping forward and up onto the dais the podium was on, Harry approached the book and pushed up onto the tips of his toes to stare down at the black cover. As he watched, a single word-rune appeared on the cover with a flash of blue-gold light, Harry's hand raising to brush across the surface of the warm rune as his mouth opened to speak it.

"_Dovah_"

The moment the word fell from his lips, the golden blue light was latching onto his hand and was crawling up his arm, the chanting cutting off instantly as he fearfully tried to tear his arm away. His hand remaining glued to the black cover of the book, the now burning light reached his shoulder and was now making its way up his neck, forcing its way down his throat as it continued to spread towards his chest before stabbing into where his heart would be. A scream of pain trying and failing to push its way past the light in his throat, Harry's body went limp and he collapsed forward against the podium and the book resting upon it.

And then it was over.

Gasping for air as he remained leaning across the book, to exhausted to pull himself away from the probably cursed book, the last thing Harry expected was to hear a woman's voice saying "That'll be 5 galleons".

Pushing away from the podium, Harry spun around to see a woman seated in a comfy looking armchair, a red hood with a single white stripe down the middle pulled low over her eyes. She couldn't see, he wasn't sure how he knew that, but even though her face was aimed in his direction Harry just knew that she was blind.

"What is it?" Harry found himself asking slowly, his throat raw and scratchy, "What did it do to me?"

"It unlocked a power deep within you," the blind woman admitted simply, "One far beyond the comprehension of the wizards we are surrounded by".

"But what is it?" Harry pressed, hand already going to his pocket with his money in it.

"It's the collected power of beings far beyond yourself".

"What beings?" he asked, looking around the room curiously. There were things that seemed so much more impressive than his – the – book, a creepy looking sword both taller and wider than Harry with veins going up and down it's surface and an eye blinking at him slowly. There was a charred and burned helmet with the letters 'N7' printed on their side. A small silver cylinder lay on a cushion beside Harry, a black button on its side. And just within arms-reach on the wall beyond it, a metal gauntlet with a red-orange gem inset in it rested on a small shelf.

The corner of the woman's lip tugged up slightly, "For five gold coins, you could have your answer".

Looking down at the five galleons already waiting in his hand, Harry crossed the room and placed them into the woman's waiting palm, jumping slightly as something nudged his foot. Glancing down at his new book, he glanced between it and the now blank wall that the alcove had once been set in, turning with a frown to face the blind woman only to find an empty chair.

Picking his book up and holding it to his chest, Harry looked around the store a final time before heading towards the door. He no longer wanted to be there, he had his book, he'd never need anything again…

* * *

Sniffling as she wiped her face down with her robe sleeves, Hermione Granger pulled her wand from her pocket and held it out before her.

"Lumos"

Watching as light shone from the tip of her wand, Hermione felt some of the pain from Weasley's words earlier that day slipping away. She was a Witch, a darn good one at that, and just because the red-headed boy couldn't manage to cast a simple cantrip didn't mean that she was any less his superior.

She was better than him, and they both knew it. She deserved to be here.

Shaking it off and cancelling her spell, Hermione pocketed her wand and unlatched the door to her cubicle, pausing for a moment at the shuffling sound she could hear in the bathroom beyond. Assuming it was just another student, she swung open the cubicle door and stepped out into the bathroom, freezing at the sight of the huge mountain troll standing in the doorway.

The book she'd read about them, '_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_', hadn't described them properly. They were magical creatures of immense strength and unbeatable stupidity, and were said to reach up to twelve feet high, weighing around a ton. What the book failed to mention however, was the smell of rotting socks and dead fish that followed them, and the look of savage blood-lust in the troll's eyes as it peered down at her.

Unable to stop the whimper that slipped from her mouth, Hermione stepped back into the cubicle and closed the door, remembering only a second later how useless that action had truly been. Dropping to her knees, she instead tried to crawl back into the corner of the cubicle, only now realising that she was alone in a bathroom with nobody who knew where she was. It didn't matter that she didn't know how a troll got into what she'd been told was the 'safest place in all of Britain', all that matter was the only thing between her and it was a piece of flimsy wood.

A scream was torn from her lips as the cubicle exploded around her, leaving her cowering back further, trying to squeeze as much of herself into the corner as she could, the troll standing over her as it pulled it's club back and raised it over its head.

Moving in what felt like slow motion, Hermione watched as the troll brought it's club down, a muffled shout from the door proving to be her only salvation as a rippling shock wave slammed into the troll and lifted it off it's feet to slam it into the wall.

Sitting there, frozen in shock, it took the troll beginning to climb to it's feet to knock Hermione out of her daze. Pushing herself up, she clambered over the remains of the cubicle and rushed towards the door, faltering only slightly at the sight of the infamous Harry Potter standing alone in the doorway. Allowing the Boy-Who-Lived to grab her arm and push her behind him, she watched as he didn't remove his eyes from the now standing troll.

"Harry!" she hissed, tugging at his robe sleeve as the troll picked up it's club again, "We need to go. Now".

Harry just snorted instead, yanking his arm free of her hand and shaking his head. "I'll not run from this _raan_," he muttered under his breath. As the troll charged forward, Hermione watched as Harry merely raised his chin and spoke three words.

"_Zun Haal Viik_".

As the words fell from his lips, she watched a ripple of power exploding from his body, washing over the troll which roared angrily as it's club was torn from it's grasp and thrown back to lodge itself in the wall behind it.

"Oh my god," Hermione blurted in shock, looking between the wandless Harry and the confused looking troll.

"Actually, my name is Harry," the Boy-Who-Lived corrected innocently, still not looking away from the troll which shook it's head before rearing back to roar at them. Whimpering embarrassingly again at the fear-inducing sound, Hermione could only stand there and watch as Harry made an amused sound before saying "My turn," and screaming "_Fus Ro Dah_!" back at the troll, the same rippling shock wave from before erupting from his mouth and slamming into the troll, hurling it back into the wall with a sickening crack.

"I win," Harry dead-panned, turning on his heel and striding from the bathroom before Hermione had time to react, leaving her cowering against the wall for a moment before she was sprinting after her rescuer.

"How, how did you _do_ that?" she demanded as she caught up with the boy who so far had confused most of Hogwarts by being the opposite of what they'd expected. "You didn't have a wand, and you did all _that_ by just _speaking_!"

"Yup".

"How?" Hermione pressed, annoyance filling her as Harry didn't say anything else.

Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, the black-haired boy just smiled innocently at her, "Haven't you heard? I'm the Boy-Who-Lived".

* * *

Reclining back in her seat, the blind woman felt her lips twitching up into a smirk at the boy's response, her eyes dead to this world but not to the next.

"_Our hero, our hero  
Claims a warrior's heart"_

she sung softly under her breath as she raised her teacup to sip from it gently.

"_I tell you, I tell you  
The Dragonborn comes"._

* * *

**The Book**

* * *

_**Inspired by DZ2's **New Power** challenge.**_

_**The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or the Elder Scrolls; Skyrim.**_


	58. Accidental Repost

There were few things that could truly fight the Nexus.

But one of the only things that could actually defeat it, was it's own host. Countless times over the years, the Nexus had survived almost overwhelming odds, only to be forced out by the being hosting it becoming greedy and demanding more power.

And Earth was no different, when the Nexus had arrived on Earth and taken on the name 'The Phoenix' as the closest Earthen equivalent for it's species, it had chosen the near-death 'Jean Grey' as its willing host. Thriving in Jean Grey's mind, the Nexus found itself concerned with the darker aspect of her mind that was growing within the girl.

Directing its power to keep this side of Jean Grey subdued, the Phoenix didn't recognise the presence of another psychic until it was too late.

Finding a large percentage of the power it could access while in a host severely limited, the Phoenix allowed itself to drift back into Jean Grey's subconscious, content to remain quiet and watch her life play out. Watching as she herself thrived at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, the Phoenix subtly nudged her towards one of her fellow Mutants, a man whose heart and soul resonated at the same frequency as hers.

_This_ was what the Phoenix lived for. Life. Not for power like some of it's previous hosts believed. Jean Grey was perhaps one of the Phoenix's best decisions in the past several thousand years.

And then _She_ happened.

The Dark Aspect of Jean Grey's mind broke through the barriers Charles Xavier had erected around it, wielding the power that the Phoenix had lost trying to subdue Her. And then She _dared_ called herself 'The Phoenix', in a mockery of the Nexus dwelling within Jean Grey. She turned the Nexus' own power against it, locking it away with a mental sneer, the Nexus only barely able to preserve a small part of Jean Grey's mind.

Thankfully that was all they needed. The small shard of Jean Grey managed to break through, she managed to reinstate the Nexus' dwindling faith in Humanity with a mere two words.

"Save Me".

And with both Jean Grey and _Her_ dead, the Phoenix absorbed Jean Grey's consciousness into its own like usual, and cast _Her_ into the afterlife to suffer. It was glad to accept Jean Grey as part of itself, despite all that had been against her the vibrant woman had been just so full of life and joy.

Unfortunately however, with Jean Grey, it meant the Phoenix no longer had a host. And without a host, the Phoenix couldn't remain on Earth any longer, or its sheer power would destroy the planet as _She_ had wished to do.

Before the Phoenix could leave the planet however, Jean Grey's mind surfaced from within the mass of minds that made it up it's conscious. Before the man's death, Charles Xavier had been following the progress of a developing Mutant in what Humans called England. Gifted with the potential to match Jean Grey's strength, the boy was everything Jean Grey was, and yet was so much more.

It hadn't taken the Phoenix long to decide. Harry Potter was a perfect candidate for being the new host of the Phoenix. For now however, the Phoenix would need to leave the planet, to give Harry Potter the time to develop naturally.

It would return when Harry Potter was ready, which wouldn't be long considering what was happening up in Scotland right now.

* * *

The last thing Harry had expected when he'd dove into the Veil after Sirius, was to be standing in an unending expanse of _white_.

Looking around for his Godfather, Harry almost sobbed in relief as he spotted the man lying there limply, darting forward to fall to his knees beside him. "Sirius! Sirius wake up!" he begged, rolling the black-haired man over onto his back and shaking his shoulders quickly.

Glancing over his shoulder at the black archway behind him, Harry briefly wondered if there was some kind of time limit for him to drag Sirius out of this place. Freezing as the sound of a strangled cry echoed through the white, Harry looked around slowly, eyes locking onto what looked like a shrunken shrivelled house elf without the ears. Looking between the demon-creature and Sirius, it didn't take any thought at all for Harry to refocus his attention onto his Godfather.

"Sirius, come on Sirius! Wake up!"

"_**He won't wake"**_

Biting back the urge to groan at the ethereal voice, unable to stop the flashback to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry instead scrambled over his Godfather to stand between Sirius and the _spirit-being-presence_ he could sense in front of him.

"_**I will not harm you Harry Potter"**_

"Thank you," Harry bit out slowly, hands flexing as he realised that he no longer had his wand on him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll just be taking Sirius and leaving if you don't mind".

As the words escaped his mouth Harry blinked in shock, wondering when the bloody hell he'd started speaking like Malfoy of all people. Stiffening as a haunting laugh echoed through the white, Harry watched as a swirl of unearthly fire-like power appeared where his whispering magic claimed the spirit was located, the power taking a humanoid form before the fire died out suddenly and left a familiar person standing in it's place.

"Mum?"

"_**No, Harry Potter"**_ the spirit denied simply, "_**This form is that of my previous host, a Human woman by the name of Jean Grey"**_

Swallowing painfully, Harry just nodded, not knowing what to say or whether he should say anything that all. "Where am I?" he blurted, the sound of the creature beginning to cry again pulling both his and 'Jean Grey's' attention aside for a moment.

"_**You are beyond the Veil. A gate to what Humans call a pocket dimension, inhabited by a Beast, a Devourer of Souls,"**_ Jean Grey explained, "_**We do not have long, for the Beast has surely sensed your presence by now, and will be on its way to the door"**_.

"What?" he hissed, quickly stepping over Sirius again and trying to lift him up, a whimper escaping his lips as he realised it felt like someone had used a sticking charm on him. "Please, can you help me?" he exclaimed, looking up at Jean Grey as he hoped his luck would hold out and she _wasn't_ this Beast she spoke of.

"_**I can,"**_ Jean Grey confirmed. "_**I am the being known to Humans as the Phoenix. The Fount of All Life and the Nexus of Psionic Power. It is within my power to take a host, for without one I cannot dwell on a planet for fear of destroying it"**_.

"Wait. Are you asking me?" Harry began nervously, his mind piecing together what she was saying much faster than he normally managed. "I can't be your host, I mean I'm kind of attached to my body. And with Voldemort back I can't just turn my back on my friends".

'The Phoenix' just tilted her head at him curiously, a slight frown gracing her features. "_**Jean Grey likened it to having a presence within her mind, watching her life playing out, like one would watch a movie or read a book,"**_ the 'Fount of All Life' corrected slowly. "_**It is not my desire to possess your body, only to share it. Your body, and your life would remain entirely yours, I would merely be coming along for the ride"**_.

Harry just stared at her blankly, trying to find a difference between possession and having his body 'driven like a car' by the being in front of him. "Would you fight Voldemort?" he found his mouth asking before he could realise where his thoughts were heading, "If I said yes. Would you fight Voldemort? Or would you hurt people?"

"_**I would do neither. I would give you the power to fight this 'Voldemort', but like I said, I would merely be a passenger in your body,"**_ the Phoenix explained, "_**I could not take control over your body unless you gave me express permission. I **_**am** _**the Embodiment of Life, after all, it is not my desire to rid you of yours"**_.

Leaning back onto his heels, Harry studied the emotionless face of the 'woman' in front of him. Wondering what the chances were that he _wasn't_ being screwed over by this Phoenix. "_**With the power boost hosting me would grant you,"**_ the Phoenix continued when Harry didn't speak, "_**You'll have the strength to break through the barrier keeping people from leaving this dimension, you'll be able to escape with your Godfather and stop any more of your friends from getting hurt. You are a very powerful Mutant, Harry Potter, you merely need training and focus"**_.

"Mutant," Harry echoed dumbly, "Those dark creatures with magical powers?" he clarified slowly, thinking back to some of the Daily Prophet articles he'd seen about them.

"_**Mutants are no more dark creatures than Mages are,"**_ the Phoenix sniffed, "_**Both Mutants and Mages are Human after all, only separated by a single gene. Magicals can manipulate a form of energy Humans call 'Magic', while Mutants have various widespread abilities similar to the 'Magical gene'. Most children with both the Mutant and the Magical gene do not survive to birth, their own genetics fighting over the two genes of power, but on occasion someone can be born with complementary genes like yourself"**_.

"Like myself?" Harry repeated as he slowly stood, "But I can't be a Mutant! It would have manifested by now! We studied Mutants in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I would know by now".

"_**Unless a certain meddling old Wizard placed suppressing blood wards around the place you were raised,"**_ the Phoenix pointed out coldly, a flash of anger crossing her face. "_**When he realised what you were, he did all he could to suppress it, tying blood wards that drained your magic to block your mutat**__**ion**__** from manifesting. They didn't work of course, merely slowing the gene from awakening, but they managed to force your magical core to grow larger than expected. Why do you think you've been so angry recently? You're picking up on Voldemort's anger through the psychic link the two of you shared"**_.

"If I give you permission, would you take control of my body and destroy Voldemort?" Harry asked without thinking, "If I give you my body, could you stop him?"

"_**If you gave me your permission,"**_ the Phoenix promised as she strode forward, standing opposite him on Sirius' other side.

"And that's it right?" he asked hesitantly, "You would defeat Voldemort and help me train my Mutation? That's all?"

"_**I can grant you so much more,"**_ the Phoenix offered, "_**I could lead you to the one whose soul resonates with your own? I could show you how to become rich? Famous?"**_

"I'm already rich," Harry denied quickly, "And I'm already famous. And I'd rather just have my family back than be either. And I know you can't resurrect the dead," he added hastily as the Phoenix frowned at him. "I wasn't going to ask. I'm just saying I don't want that".

"_**Are we in agreement then?"**_ Phoenix asked slowly as she stepped forward to offer her hand.

Harry stared at her hand for a moment, taking a deep breath as he glanced down at his Godfather. "Yes. We're in agreement," he agreed, slowly reaching out to grasp her hand which felt like it was on fire, yet didn't burn him.

"_**In return for hosting me. I will aid you in your war against Voldemort, aid you with your psionic powers, and lead you to your **__**s**__**oul-mate,"**_ the Phoenix declared formally as the warmth began spreading up Harry's arm rapidly.

"Wait what?" he blurted as he caught onto what she had added on the end of the agreement. Before he could pull his hand away however, the Phoenix was exploding into the same fire from before seconds later, being absorbed into his body as what felt like burning lava spread through his veins and into his mind.

"_**May I have control Harry Potter? Your Voldemort is standing outside the entrance to this dimension,"**_ the Phoenix requested politely.

"Yeah. You can have control," Harry agreed instantly, a wave of dizziness washing over him before he was suddenly looking through his eyes as if he was an outsider. "_Make him pay for what he's done"_.

"**So I shall"**

* * *

**TALON OF THE PHOENIX**

* * *

_**Inspired by my own preview 'Phoenix Song', numbering Chapter Three of the Lost Files. This is just a re-written version of the same challenge and idea, I happened across the preview in some long lost file on my laptop and couldn't help myself.**_

_**The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or the X-Men.**_


	59. Overlord

"_Dear Harry_

_It's that time again. Hogwarts is starting tomorrow, I'll be climbing onto a train to a place that I don't really want to be any more"._

Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, Hermione Granger twirled the pen in her hand and stared down at the piece of paper in front of her.

She had so much to say, almost too much in fact. And this wasn't an essay, so she didn't know where to begin. There were no guidelines when it came to writing one's heart instead of their mind. She'd had no problems writing like this before, but before she'd never had the kind of problems she's currently going through.

"_There's a boy in our house, in your __old __dorm to be exact. Seamus Finnigan."_ Hermione began, avoiding the main topic in favour for something that was less depressing. "_I could have sworn I'd heard his voice the other day, walking through Muggle London. When I looked for him though, all I found was a twenty-something year old who looked nothing like Seamus. I think I might actually have a crush on him, it's really frustrating because it doesn't make sense. We barely talk to each other, and since he's part of His group of friends I don't spend any time with him. And yet I almost can't wait to get back to Hogwarts _just _so __I __can see him_

_I would say I hate being a girl, but according to my father going through puberty as a boy isn't any easier"_ she added as a smile tugged at her lips, remembering the haunted look on her father's face as he told her the stories of some of his worst puberty horror stories.

"_I still don't want to go to Hogwarts though… Seamus Finnigan or not… It's Professor Dumbledore, Harry. He's claiming that Cedric Diggory, the boy who died in the Tournament last year? Dumbledore's claiming that You-Know-Who killed him, that You-Know-Who is back. The Ministry is denying it of course, they've got quite the smear campaign in the Daily Prophet against him. They've even mentioned you a couple of times, blaming Dumbledore for what happened to you_

_I don't know who to believe. On one hand, why would Professor Dumbledore lie about this, but on the other hand though he's got no proof. He's claiming You-Know-Who is back and expecting everyone to take his word for it. But then the Ministry isn't acting right either. The way they're reacting makes me wish I wasn't a witch. It should have been easy for them to perform an investigation and prove Dumbledore wrong. But all they're doing is sticking their heads in the sand, hoping that if they don't see it then it'll go away_

_I think this is it for me. After I get my OWLs I'm going to drop out of Hogwarts and do __home-schooling__ instead. It'll mean I can catch up on my Muggle education while still learning magic. The Magical world isn't worth staying in, even without this whole You-Know-Who mess going on, I think I'd be leaving anyway"_

Stopping again as a weight lifted from her shoulders, Hermione put her pen down so she could read over what she'd written. She hadn't even told her parents about her decision yet, she'd brought it up with her Dad who'd been home-schooled till he was fifteen, but she'd only made her mind up that day. Her parents would be happy at least, they hated having her all the way in Scotland instead of coming home after school each day.

"_It's not worth it __any__more__. Oh Merlin I'm so pathetic. __Writing to a__ boy that's been dead for years. You wouldn't want me to be like this, there are times where I swear I can hear your voice telling me to let you go, to move on"_

Shivering as a cold breeze whispered through her window, Hermione pulled her dressing gown tighter around her body, raising her eyes to stare up at the full moon in the distance.

"_I miss you_

_Love Hermione"_

Biting back her tears, Hermione carefully put her pen down and gently picked up the letter, her eyes skimming over the words '_I miss you_' as laughter echoed into her room from the street outside.

Turning around with the intent of placing the letter to Harry in a re-purposed photo album filled with hundreds like it, a startled yelp escaped her lips as a strong gust of wind tore it from her grasp, making her scramble to catch the piece of paper that was blown out the window as every other loose sheet was kicked up into the air. By the time she'd pinned down the other pieces of paper and gotten to the window, she couldn't tell her letter from the other runaway pages.

With a sigh, Hermione slipped into some slippers and hurried from the house, knowing that some of the missing pages (As well as the letter) openly mentioned magic. Gathering up all the loose papers, she looked around slowly as a white blur flashed past her vision, frowning slightly as she looked around the otherwise empty street. Shivering and wrapping her arms around herself, she held her fistful of papers to her chest and hurried back towards the front door, faltering in the doorway as she felt eyes on her.

Looking up and down the street nervously, Hermione scanned the shadows carefully for any sign of life, before heading back inside and locking the door behind her, never seeing the owl perched in the tree across the street, a letter scrunched up in its beak.

* * *

"Hey Hermione".

Jumping slightly, the bushy-haired girl in question looked up at Neville, her fellow Gryffindor standing there with his robe tucked up under his ear once again. "We're almost at Hogwarts now," he blurted, looking a little green, "And I uh- I uh wanted to let you know that yo- that you're welcome to join Luna, Ginny and I in our carriage".

Smiling gently at the boy who's stutter had only gotten worse over the years, Hermione nodded slowly as she closed her book and made her way to her feet. "I'd love to join you three, just let me get changed first?"

When Neville nodded jerkily and left her compartment, Hermione put her book away and quickly changed into her Hogwarts robes. As much as she hated to, she was going to have to start avoiding the other boy and their fourth year friends. It'd make cutting off all contact with the wizarding world easy if she didn't have anyone to hold her back, and she knew that they only had to ask for her to return, something she couldn't allow. Purposely slowing herself down as the train reached the station, Hermione hit the compartment door with a notice-me-not charm, hoping to wait long enough to 'accidentally' miss the other's carriage.

When she finally left the compartment, she found only a couple of carriages remaining, carefully peering into them until she found an empty one to claim. Burying her face in a book again, mentally begging the carriage to hurry up and leave before someone else got in, her hopes were dashed as she felt somebody else climbing into her carriage silently, seconds before it started to move.

"No," a voice said suddenly, making her flinch behind the cover of her book, "I don't know who".

Opening her mouth to snap at her unwelcome guest, only a squeak of fear escaped Hermione's lips as she met the glowing amber eyes of the armour-clad figure before her.

"Dumbledore's claiming that You-Know-Who is back," the armoured man said slowly, his voice metallic yet familiar, "But I don't know who".

"I- but- What? Who?" Hermione blurted, staring at the teenager – for it was either that or a very short adult – in confusion. "What?" she repeated.

"Three excellent questions," the teenager agreed, fiery eyes unblinking as they stared directly at her.

Hand sneaking into her pocket to curl around her wand, Hermione's eyes flicked to the carriage door, weighing up the idea of walking to Hogwarts compared to the idea of remaining in the carriage with what was clearly a lunatic. Before she could move however, a booted foot was slamming into the doorway, blocking off her escape before she could even make it.

"You didn't answer my question," the armoured figure snapped coldly, "You can't leave until you answer my question".

"Who _are_ you?" Hermione asked instead, staring at the male opposite her in a mixture of fear, confusion, and disbelief.

Even though she couldn't see the other's face, Hermione could just tell that he'd started frowning, his head tilting slightly as he stiffened slightly. "You don't remember me?" he questioned slowly, what almost sounded like anger in his voice, "You wrote me a letter, but you don't remember me?"

Mouth opening to deny it, Hermione froze at the sight of the lined muggle paper the figure opposite her pulled from a pouch on his armoured hip. The words _'Dear Harry'_ visible even through the dirt and creases covering the letter's surface.

"Harry?"

"You don't remember me," 'Harry' repeated darkly.

"You're uh, you're wearing a helmet," Hermione countered quickly, something in Harry's voice telling her that he was close to losing his temper. "I couldn't see your face".

Instantly the anger tangible in the air vanished, leaving Hermione inhaling deeply as 'Harry' reached up to pull off his helmet to reveal the face of the boy who'd died to save her from a troll four years ago.

"Oh my god… Harry," Hermione blurted, throwing herself across the carriage at him, her mind shutting down beyond thinking _'__It's Harry__. __It's Harry__. __It's Harry__'_. Pulling away slightly, she stared into Harry's no longer glowing but still golden-amber eyes, "You were dead," she whispered, "You died".

"So did you," Harry shot back, eyebrows furrowing, "I remember you. You were in that bathroom, the troll squished you".

Frowning back at Harry, Hermione's eyes drifted down to the letter still crumpled in his armoured hand. "How?" she questioned, ignoring the rational part of her mind that was chanting 'No magic can bring back the dead' in favour of the part that was singing at the idea that the boy she'd admittedly become a little dependant on over the years.

"Gnarl," came Harry's fond response, the boy smirking slightly to himself before his eyes refocused on Hermione's face. "How did you come back?"

"I- I didn't," Hermione blurted hesitantly, "I was never dead. My leg was broken but I never died. Only you… only you did".

Harry's head tilted to the side again, his face scrunching up in concentration. "I don't remember very well," he murmured, "Gnarl used the Tower Heart to bring me back, but it didn't work properly. The Heart was weak, it couldn't fix my body _and_ my mind".

"You're suffering from memory loss?" Hermione realised, his behaviour up till now making sense suddenly. "You don't remember anything?" she questioned slowly, what little fear she had felt giving way into a sense of duty towards Harry.

He'd saved her from the troll when no-one else would. She could help him regain his memories, it was the least she could do for the man she owed her life.

Burnt golden-amber eyes locked onto her chocolate brown ones as Harry shook his head slowly, chin-length hair falling down over his face. "I remembered you," he whispered quietly, "I remembered your face. I remember some things," he added defensively, "Tiny minion-like creatures with large ears and sharp teeth. Gold… a lot of gold…" a frown crossed his face as he rubbed his forehead in pain, "A stick? It hurts to try remember," he confessed as if he suddenly remembered she was there.

Laughter made Hermione look out the carriage's windows to where the other carriages were pulling up in front of the castle. "We're almost there. At Hogwarts," she clarified to a confused Harry, "Where… where are you going to go?"

"I remember this place," Harry murmured as he peered out the window, "I lived here".

"We all did, it's a school. For magic," Hermione explained gently, making Harry nod firmly.

"I remember magic," the boy declared, a smirk crossing his face at the memory.

"Where are you going to go?" Hermione repeated. If Harry came into the castle with her, then he'd be dragged away by the Ministry, since there was no 'Light' magic that could raise the dead as had clearly been done to Harry.

"There," Harry decided simply, pointing up at the castle, "I used to go there".

"But you can't just walk in!" Hermione argued as she shied back from the window when the carriage pulled up in front of the giant doors.

"Of course I can," Harry said with a snort, lunging forward and vaulting out the carriage's window gracefully despite his armour.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, "You can't!"

"Yes, I can," Harry repeated bluntly, his helmet reappearing on his face with a shimmer and making his eyes turn to fire again. "I can do what I want. I'm the Overlord".

* * *

**OVERLORD**

* * *

_Inspired by DZ2's _Death is only the Beginning_ challenge._

_So I've been informed recently that I've been writing too many Percy Jackson and Charmed crossovers (11 and 9 respectively) and that I should try my hand at other crossovers. If you've hopefully noticed, recently I HAVE been trying this with stories ranging from Mortal Instruments, to Teen Wolf, to Skyrim._

_And then there's _this_._

_This was one of my original ideas for this particular challenge, the idea coming from DZ2 actually using Overlord as an example of a potential crossover, but I pushed it aside in favour of something a little more serious (Which we can see worked out so well when we look at 'Angel' (Chpt 39))._

_Anyway, the Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Overlord._


	60. Odd Potter

Harry Potter was widely considered an odd boy by the inhabitants of Privet Drive.

But not just any old odd boy, oh no, Harry Potter was Odd.

The capital O is very important to the matter of how Odd Harry Potter was, his fourth grade teacher was in fact heard to be calling young Harry 'Odd Potter' on more than one occasion, a name that seemed to stick even if no-one would brave saying it to his face.

To Harry Potter however, it seemed like everyone else were the odd ones. They would stare and whisper as he walked past, they would even point at his clothes when they thought he wasn't looking. And even sometimes, when he spoke, they would just blink at him in dazed confusion, as if they couldn't understand a single word he spoke. _(E__ven when he was speaking the Queen's English perfectly thank you very much__)_

Unlike how the adults reacted, Harry didn't seem to dwell on the oddness of everybody else. Why would he choose to, after all? It wasn't his fault that they chose to act like this, he had enough on his plate with ensuring that the Dursleys didn't find any reason to come after him again. Not that anybody else knew that… they all had the most odd of habits, that they couldn't see Harry being knocked around the head, even if right in front of them. _(__Their eyes dazed again… rather odd it was – not that he cared much__)_

But yes – or rather no – Harry didn't dwell on the oddness of others. He had his own distractions, an admittedly odd one named 'Glockenspiel' or 'Glock' for short. Or at least that's what Harry called him, Glock couldn't speak, probably because he was a dog, also because none of his other friends in Privet Drive could speak, but mainly because he was a dog.

It didn't matter to Harry that his best friend couldn't speak – or was a dog – in fact Harry often spent all their time together talking enough for the both of them, something Glock adored from him as they went on walks around the suburb together. What _did_ matter to Harry, something that he'd always been ashamed of, was the childish pleasure he would feel when other people tried to touch Glock.

To put it simply, they couldn't.

Glock was solid only to him. Glock was his friend, nobody else's. Nobody else ever knew he was there, if they did, they'd have told Harry to get him out of the classroom, or perhaps they would have stared at him strangely like Principal Johnstone had when Harry had explained that it hadn't been _Harry_ that had thrown the desk through the science room's window. _(It hadn't been him either, it had been Her – the beautiful red-haired woman who constantly followed him around, moving things when she was angry, and silently singing him to sleep each night in his cupboard)_

Principal Johnstone hadn't believed him though, but on the plus side Harry hadn't gotten detention, only a warning about watching his behaviour or he'd be given a nice warm white jumper. _(Harry wasn't so sure about what was bad about this jumper, it seemed really nice, letting him hug himself all the time. But __Principal Johnstone __had been afraid of it, so Harry had done the nice thing and played along)_

She was also another of Harry's friends, _(Not his best friend though, he read a book once that said dogs were a man's best friend, not women)_, and although just like Glock she couldn't speak, she always said more than enough with just one sad smile.

She was standing right over there too, her red hair still constantly moving as in a heavy wind, a tight smile on her face as she watched Aunt Petunia fussing around Harry, insisting that he wasn't cooking the bacon fast enough. She was being annoying too – Aunt Petunia, not Her – and so Harry did the one thing that he knew would always make his Aunt leave him alone.

He looked at her.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, Harry stared at his Aunt intently, fighting the urge to blink as he felt his eyes glazing over slightly, the wind whispering in his ears as Petunia started shifting uncomfortably before snapping at him to "Hurry up and start on the eggs," before rushing from the room muttering about weirdos.

Smiling faintly to himself as he turned back to frying the bacon, Harry was just preparing himself for a long day of chasing Glock through the park when he felt it. Setting down his spatula, he took a deep breath before slowly turning around to face the young girl standing behind him.

Her name was Wendy Louis. She was in his class at primary school, in fact, she'd made fun of him when he gotten an 'F' on his maths test.

And now she was dead.

Tilting his head again slightly, Harry watched as Wendy reached out hesitantly, steeling herself for a moment before stepping forward to press her palm against his cheek. Leaning into it, Harry felt his lips tug up into a gentle smile, encouraging her into doing what he knew she wanted to do. Almost fearfully, Wendy's own mouth twitched up into a pained smile, the girl looking lost as she stood in his kitchen in the pretty white dress he remembered her wearing to school last week.

"Boy!" came his Uncle's angry call, "You're burning my bacon!"

Pausing for a moment, Harry turned his head to watch as his Uncle lowered his considerable bulk into his seat at the table. "He killed her," he whispered knowingly, Uncle Vernon freezing and going pale as he stared at Harry with nervous wide eyes, "He killed her, and he's going to do it again".

Ignoring his Uncle as Vernon started stuttering, Harry turned and strode from the kitchen, lengthening his steps to make himself go faster as he followed the skipping Wendy. As both his Uncle and his Aunt called after them, Harry opened the front door and left number four Privet Drive, leaving the door open behind him so that Glock – who had been sleeping under the kitchen table – could run out behind him.

Walking along the pavement, a wordlessly giggling Wendy skipping beside him, Harry found himself getting completely and utterly lost. He knew not where he was going, only that he was going to get there, and that when he got there he'd know where there was. And it seemed there was where he got all too quickly, crossing the road to stand in front of his school, which on a Saturday was completely deserted and empty. _(As it should be all the time in Harry's opinion)_

Turning his head only, Harry stared at Wendy silently, the girl staring back at him for a moment before leaning forward to look past him. Following her eyes, Harry watched as the cheerfully red station wagon pulled up alongside the curb, the smiling face of his teacher appearing in the window as it was wound down.

"Ya'll alright there Harry?" Mr Morensen asked slowly, a grin splitting his face in half. "Didn't forget it was the weekend did ya?"

Stepping forward, Harry opened the door to the car without prompting, moving to the side so Wendy could climb into the passenger seat and then through to the back – her white dress suddenly torn and bloodied as she wore a necklace of black hand prints around her neck.

"I don't forget," was all Harry said in response, watching as Wendy settled down in the back and reached through the gap in the seats to brush her fingers across his cheek. "You know I don't, Daniel".

Mr Morensen looked a little confused as to what Harry was talking about, before apparently remembering that he was rather odd and deciding to just nod his head sagely. "Of course not, Harry," the man agreed, "Say. Why don't ya climb in and I can drop ya off at yer Uncle and Aunt's?"

"I don't forget, Daniel," Harry repeated.

"Harry, I think it's better that you call me Mr Morensen," the teacher corrected gently, "I don't want the other kids thinking I'm playing favourites".

Frowning as he looked away from Wendy's face, Harry narrowed his eyes at Mr Morensen. "I don't forget, Daniel," he repeated for the third time, "And you didn't tell Wendy Louis that. 'Call me Danny', you said, 'We're friends remember?' you said".

"W- Wendy?" Mr Morensen repeated nervously, "I don't know what you're talking about Harry, I haven't seen Wendy since class ended on yesterday".

"Odd," was all Harry murmured as his eyes flicked back to Wendy, "She's sitting in your back seat".

As Mr Morensen twisted about to look, Harry stepped back and closed the car door, not batting an eye as Mr Morensen let out a choking noise as his seatbelt tightened around his chest and pinned him there. "I think you're lying," Harry corrected as he stepped forward again and let Wendy place her palm against his cheek once more, "I think that you told Wendy to climb in so you could take her home. Only you didn't. You took her to your home," he explained slowly, aware of the way Mr Morensen had frozen in place and was watching Harry in horror, "And then you hurt her. Squeezed her throat too hard, too much".

"She's still got the bruises you know," he added conversationally as he turned back to stare at the teacher. "Goodbye Mr Morensen. You were a nice teacher".

Mr Morensen was no longer paying attention to him however, instead struggling wildly to get away and out of his car, a look of complete panic on his face as Harry watched Wendy leaning forward between the seats to place her hand on the dashboard of the car.

'Thank you' Wendy whispered to him silently, tears running down her face as all the controls and consoles lit up, the car switching into gear suddenly.

"No, no, no, no, no," babbled Mr Morensen as he tore the keys out of the car, slowly turning to stare at Harry in horror. "What _are_ you?"

"I'm a ten year old boy," Harry said simply, "And you're a murderer".

"Goodbye Wendy," he added as he turned and started heading back down the street, listening as someone slammed on the accelerator of Mr Morensen's car and it tore down the street on its own. If Harry had stayed and watched, he would have seen Mr Morensen's car heading straight down the street, and straight into the path of the 6'clock morning bus. But he didn't _(He'd seen __too much__ death in his life to want to see more)_ and instead he just kept heading to number four Privet Drive with Glock chasing after him with his docked tail wagging crazily. _(As if they hadn't just gotten justice for Wendy Louis; age 10)_

When he finally returned to the place he was forced to call 'home', Harry pushed the door open and scooped up the letters on the mat as he continued forward to the kitchen. Dropping the letters on the table in front of Uncle Vernon, Harry lightly bumped his Aunt out of the way and returned to cooking their breakfast as if he'd never stopped.

"Ma- Marge is ill, again," Vernon finally stuttered out, the odd man never seeming to know what to say. "Ate a funny whelk it seems, poor woma- _urk_".

If Harry hadn't known his Uncle so well, then he would have perhaps just dismissed that funny noise as Vernon being Vernon. But since he knew his Uncle inside and out, better than he knew himself in fact, Harry couldn't help but turn curiously to find him staring at one of the letters delivered that morning. And for some reason, She was standing behind Vernon, not glaring at him for the first time in forever and instead smiling down past him as she reached out to caress the letter before looking up at Harry and gesturing for him.

Knowing what she wanted without her needing to speak, Harry put the spatula down for the second time that day and strode over to Vernon, ignoring his Aunt who was calling his Uncle's name in worry as he reached out to gently pluck the letter from the man's hands. Ducking under his Uncle's sudden dive for the letter, Harry tore it open and pulled out the first piece of parchment, unfolding it and smiling faintly at the words written.

"Dear Mr Potter," he read aloud, making his Aunt and Uncle freeze as Dudley helped himself to his father's bacon. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".

Folding the letter up, Harry tucked it into the waistband of his too-large pants and returned to finishing up the last of the bacon. "Hear that Mum?" he asked slowly, glancing up at the red-haired woman who was standing behind him and thus towering over him, "We're going to Hogwarts". _(Finally)_

* * *

_Inspired by something I've got no bloody idea what was... probably the movie 'Odd Thomas' actually now I think about it, considering the overuse of the word 'Odd' at the beginning and the way it resembles the opening sequence to the movie._

_Anyway, I loved that movie, I'd totally suggest looking it or the book up. Seriously the movie made me cry, and I'm a big tough manly man (Cough)._

_Anyway, the Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	61. Turner

King's Cross Station was a busy place to be, both because it was one of London's main train stations, and because of the families there to see their children off to whichever boarding school they went to.

And, among the hurried and flustered families, stood a father-son pair that looked rather out of place. The two of them looked rather calm compared to everyone else, their intense green eyes scanning the station for their platform, finding themselves lost as they looked between platforms nine and ten in frustration.

"So… that letter of yours? It didn't happen to say _where_ we go next, did it?"

Pulling the letter out of his jacket pocket, the son peered down at it in confusion before shrugging. "Unless it's in code? I don't think so," he admitted, looking up at his father with an annoyed expression. "They didn't tell us how to reply to the letter either remember? Maybe we should have asked Aunt Kyra?" he added sheepishly.

As the father grimaced at the idea, he glanced down at his watch and thought for a moment. "Will you be okay here for a minute? I might have to go over and ask," he asked his son with a hesitant expression, not liking the idea of leaving the eleven year old in the station alone.

"Or Cole," a female voice drawled from behind them, "You could just turn around and ask me that way? Not that I'd answer of course," the beautiful brown-haired woman admitted innocently as they turned to face her, "Harry's going to meet his new best friend if he stands around here looking lost".

"New best friend?" Harry echoed curiously, jumping forward to hug his 'Aunt' tightly. "But what about Reid?" he asked with a frown, not liking the idea of leaving his best friend since he was in diapers for someone else.

"Reid will be fine," Kyra assured him, "He'll be making new friends of his own at Spencer Academy," she explained, exchanging a knowing look with Cole. "Now, are you looking forward to starting at Hogwarts little one?" she asked her honorary nephew, smiling gently at him in response to the grin that spread across his face at the question.

"Ex-excuse me?"

As the two males jumped (And Kyra smirked knowingly), Harry turned around to face a nervous-looking girl with wildly bushy hair. "Did… did you say 'Hogwarts'?" the girl asked cautiously, her eyes flicking to the trunk at Harry's feet and then to the letter still clutched in his hand.

Taking in the trunk in the trolley behind her, and then the letter that the girl pulled from her own pocket, Cole did his best to hide the groan that tried to force it's way out of his throat. Of course Kyra would 'forget' to mention that his son's new best friend was going to be a _girl_, and the smirk the Seer shot him when he glared at her proved his fears. If she had done this to him around a decade or two ago, he would have vanquished her for it, as it stood at the moment however he could only glower at her and mentally threaten to 'forget' to restock her favourite brand of chocolate.

Turning his attention back to his son, Cole inclined his head towards the couple that were obviously the girl's ('Hermione' he believed she'd introduced herself as) parents. As the couple nodded back to him, his eyes met those of the mother and felt the tell-tale 'ding' of his internal radar going off, annoyance flooding him as he realised something even worse.

Not only was Kyra setting his son up with a girl already, but she was setting Harry up with the daughter of a _witch_. Could things get any worse? The moment something nudged up against his mental shields, Cole realised that things _could_ get even worse, the female Telepath's eyes widening in shock and then narrowing in disgust.

Glancing down to his son as he listened to the witch's daughter (Who was also a budding witch if his nose was correct) talking rapidly about the book called 'Hogwarts: A History', Cole quickly cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" he interrupted as the girl paused to take a breath, "Perhaps we should move this onto the Platform? I'd rather Harry not be late".

"Oh! Of course! You don't know where the Platform is do you?" Hermione remembered all in one long breath, "Follow me".

With that, Hermione had grabbed Harry's arm and started dragging him towards the signs for platforms nine and ten. Unable to hide his shock as he watched his son walking straight into and _through_ the barrier between the platforms, Cole's mouth fell open slightly. "Huh… so that's where it is," he murmured, taking a step forward to follow them, only for Hermione's mother to jump in between him and the Platform.

"You keep your _spawn_ away from our daughter," the witch demanded coldly, her husband blinking in confusion beside her as Cole rolled his eyes.

"Actually Harry is Cole's grandson," Kyra corrected innocently as she linked her arm with Cole's, stepping up beside him to smile warmly at the witch. "Cole's been raising him since Harry's mother, his daughter, was murdered," she continued before pausing. "And Harry's not a demon, he's a demonic witch. There's a difference".

"How?"

"She's a Seer," Cole ground out as the witch trailed off nervously, "She makes it a habit of answering your questions before you can even ask them".

As Kyra smiled innocently at them, she paused again before saying, "I was _once_ a demonic Seer. I did a favour for the Charmed Ones a couple of years ago and they purified my demonic side, now I only offer my services to those of Good".

"It's annoying isn't it?" Cole asked bluntly as annoyance flickered across the witch's face. "And you? People like you are just as annoying," he growled as the witch turned back to him, "I've had enough of you stuck-up witches coming barging into my life and judging me for my past actions. I walked away from that life up decades ago, and I'm more than happy to leave it buried as long as you leave my son alone," he threatened calmly as he reached down to his jacket and pulled it to the side, "Or I'll make your life a living hell," he promised as the witch' eyes locked onto the handgun and police badge on his hip.

"_You_? You're a cop?" the witch blurted in disbelief.

"Gotta start repenting somewhere," Cole dead-panned, "I'm actually rather good at it".

"Fine. But I'll be watching you," the witch muttered darkly.

"Can't wait," Cole shot back with a roll of his eyes, stepping around her and striding towards the barrier as he heard the mortal husband asking 'What just happened?'

"Hermione won't care," Kyra whispered as she linked their arms together again, stepping through the barrier as one and shuddering at the feeling of the Arcane magic brushing against their own purer magic. "By the time she discovers his heritage, they'll be too close for anything to break them apart".

Hiding the relief that had bubbled up in his chest at her words, Cole looked around until he saw Harry flailing at him wildly from the windows of one of the compartments. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that Harry would have at least _one_ witch friend who didn't care about his demonic ancestry. The only person Harry knew in England who hadn't cared about it had been half-warlock himself, so it would be good for Harry to have other friends who wouldn't judge him.

"Turner, I'm willing to… forget… about your past," the witch said as she and her husband joined them on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. "For Hermione's sake. She has trouble making friends, and your… son… seems to be able to match her thought for thought".

"Lily. Harry's mother. She was brilliant," Cole admitted softly, "I did all I could to help Harry follow in her footsteps".

For a moment the hard look on the witch's face fell, as she obviously heard the pride in his voice, before it rose again as he heard Hermione's voice calling for them. "Truce?" he asked simply, not moving as he smiled at where his son was talking rapidly to Hermione.

"Truce".

* * *

"Ah! Mister Potter! Please, do take a seat".

Eyeing the Headmaster with barely veiled suspicion, Harry slowly moved into the room and took a seat, ready to shimmer out in an instant.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered politely, making Harry glance at the bowl with disgust before shaking his head curtly. "Don't like lemons my boy? Ah well, more for me then," the Headmaster declared with a childish grin, one that only made Harry even more suspicious of the man's intentions.

"Relax, dear boy," Dumbledore said slowly after looking at Harry over his half-moon glasses. "You are not in trouble. I always run meetings towards the beginning of the year to see how our muggle-raised students are settling in".

"I'm settling in fine," Harry dismissed automatically, "Aside from some issues with the boys I'm sharing a dormitory with at least, Sir".

"Ah yes, I've heard about that," Dumbledore agreed before sending a disappointed look Harry's way. "Was it really necessary to put young Mister Weasley in the hospital wing over such a petty argument?"

"A petty argument?" Harry repeated, mouth almost falling open in shock. "That boy keeps stealing my things!" he exclaimed in annoyance, "He's going on about how we're 'best mates' when I hate him, he's constantly insulting my _real_ friends, and then he thought he was allowed to help himself to the brownies my Aunt sent me!"

"To be fair, my boy," Dumbledore interrupted, "Sharing _is_ caring".

"To be fair, Headmaster," Harry mimicked back, "I _don't_ care. And I did share, with my _friends_, Neville and Hermione, but I'm not going to share with the boy who called Hermione a 'mudblood' to her face. I was raised better than that".

Dumbledore blinked at him in open shock, the old man glancing to the side with a pensive look on his face before shaking his head. "My apologies then, my boy, I was under the impression that it had just been a squabble that had gotten out of hand," the man confessed, perhaps raising Harry's opinion of him a little bit. "I assume this was the reason Mister Weasley found himself in detention, instead of you?"

"Yes sir," Harry agreed slowly, watching as the Headmaster scratched something down on the parchment in front of him. "Can I go now?" he blurted when the man didn't say anything else and just kept writing.

Blinking up at him, Harry couldn't help but get the idea that the man had forgotten about him. "Yes yes, of course my boy, go enjoy your weekend," Dumbledore allowed, making Harry slid off the armchair and start towards the door. "And may I confess, I am please to see Petunia has put aside past issues".

Freezing with his hand on the doorknob, Harry slowly turned to frown at the Headmaster. "I'm sorry, professor, but who?"

"Petunia," Dumbledore repeated simply, plucking a lemon drop from the bowl and plopping it into his mouth. "Your Aunt. That she sends you baked goods implies she's changed greatly from your mother's time at Hogwarts".

Blinking slowly at the old man, Harry could only tilt his head to the side. "My Aunt's name is Kyra," he corrected slowly, "And you don't mean Petunia _Dursley_ do you?" he asked in disgust. "That hag who lives at fourteen Privet Drive?"

"Fourteen?" Dumbledore blurted, head snapping around to stare at Harry.

"Fourteen," Harry repeated hesitantly.

"But then who lives at _four_ Privet Drive?" the Headmaster asked dumbly.

"My Dad," Harry said slowly, "Well actually he's my grandfather, but he adopted me when he found me on the doorstep. Not even _he_ likes Petunia, says she was just like all three of the wicked step-sisters from Cinderella combined".

The Headmaster looked panicked for a moment before his eyes flicked over to the silver things littering the table by the door, the man relaxing when he saw whatever he was looking for.

Slowly opening the door and stepping out, Harry shut it behind him when Dumbledore didn't argue, instead turning and starting down the stairs. Why would he have been raised by the Dursleys? Petunia wasn't even related to him, all of the Evans kids were adopted, it wasn't exactly a family secret. Cole was his closest blood relation anyway, despite being his grandfather.

Shrugging it off, Harry cracked his neck as he vanished mid-step, shimmering away and appearing in the living room of four Privet Drive. "Hey Dad," he greeted happily, wrapping his arms around his Dad's waist in a hug even as he helped himself to one of the cookies his father was trying to bake.

"Kid. You're late," Cole countered as he tussled Harry's hair, making the young wizard scrunch up his face and try fix it.

"The Headmaster wanted to know how I was settling in," Harry dismissed, "Did you know I was supposed to be raised by Petunia _Dursley_ of all people?" he asked slowly.

"Ew," Cole dead-panned before brushing it aside with a lazy wave of his hand, kindly ignoring the way Harry jumped up onto the kitchen counter behind him. "Well? Come on, I want to hear all about your first week".

* * *

**Turner**

* * *

_Inspired by DZ2's _Family Matters_ challenge._

_It's so good to finally get this idea out there! I've had the first half of it written since the challenge was posted, I could just never find a second half I was happy with until the idea struck me in bed last night._

_Anyway, the Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Charmed,_


	62. Chosen of Frost

_Okay, so the AN is at the beginning of this chapter since I feel I need to give a warning about this chapter's contents…_

_The relationship portrayed in this chapter is pure **GEN**, there is **NO** romantic relationship between these two slash or otherwise. Now it does admittedly **seem** like they're together, and that was a complete accident on my part, but their relationship is purely generic as neither of them are in any way 'sexual beings'._

* * *

**CHOSEN OF FROST**

* * *

Throwing himself through the air, Harry dove for the dumpster, hoping to hide behind it until Dudley's small mind lost attention and he wandered off.

Instead of hitting the green metal bin, he swore he felt the wind picking up, lifting him higher than he thought possible and depositing him safely on the roof of the school. As he heard Dudley's voice screaming violent war-cries, Harry reacted on instinct and scrambled to hide behind one of the school's chimneys, ducking behind it as he clamped his eyes shut and wished.

Sitting as still as a rock, Harry held his breath and strained his ears to focus on the sounds of Dudley and his gang as they searched around the dead end for him. After what felt like years, he slowly let the air escape his lungs as he heard Dudley muttering something about getting hungry before leading his goons out of the dead end and towards the school cafeteria.

Shivering as he leaned back against the brick chimney, Harry stiffened as he swore he heard a voice on the wind, a quiet whispered "Oops, sorry 'bout that kid".

Eyes snapping open, Harry looked around the rooftop for the speaker, before twisting around and peering around the chimney, careful not to be seen by anyone below him on the ground. Frowning slightly when he saw no-one, he pulled back behind the chimney, freezing completely as he heard the sound of someone shifting on their feet.

Swallowing sharply, he slowly raised his head, eyes sweeping up the chimney and to a pair of two bare feet equal with his head. Still moving, Harry stared as he took in the bright clothing and the pure white hair, blue eyes twinkling at him merrily.

"Now now, kid," the older boy, no more than eighteen years of age, murmured slowly. "Don't go looking at me like that, you'll get ol' Jack's hopes up you will".

Blinking slowly, Harry just tilted his head. "You don't look old," he corrected cautiously – he didn't know if this boy would want to talk to him, or would just shout at him for speaking like everyone else did.

"You'll be surprised," 'Jack' muttered under his breath bitterly, shaking his head for a moment before it whipped around with a painful sounding crack, overbalancing the boy who yelped as he fell off the chimney he'd been perching on. "You!" Jack exclaimed as Harry circled the chimney to watch the white-haired boy in concern, "You can see me?"

"I can see you," Harry confirmed hesitantly, not entirely sure about why this was such a surprising thing for him.

The boy started shaking, Harry fearing for a moment he was either hurt or afraid, right up until he let out a scream of delight and dove at Harry to lift him up into a surprisingly cold hug. "You can see me! YOU CAN SEE ME!" Jack shouted happily, swinging Harry around in circles as he danced across the rooftop.

When Jack finally set him down, the white-haired boy stared at him intently, fingers wrapping around Harry's wrist as a thoughtful look flashed across his face. "You can see me," Jack repeated to himself again, tilting his head and frowning to himself, "Now what? We're going to be friends, of course," he added with a grin, "But what do we do now?"

As the grin on the boy's face turned slightly mischievous and a faint blue light shown in his eyes, Harry felt himself both bracing for something outrageous to happen – and surprising, unnaturally so – he felt himself preparing to be the one actually _doing_ it. Maybe for once he could actually be responsible for causing trouble, something that he was strangely looking forward to.

"What's your name?' Jack asked quickly, lifting Harry up and setting him down on the chimney. "I'm Jack".

"Harry, Harry Potter".

"Well Harry," Jack began as he grabbed Harry's hand and deposited a snowball in it, "Do you wanna have some fun?"

**LINEBREAK**

Yawning as he woke, Harry stretched out slowly, pulling a face as his hand thumped down on the other empty and warm side of the bed.

It was warm… Jack must have already gotten up – a while ago too if Harry couldn't feel any of the spirit's residual body cold.

Kicking his blankets back and pulling himself out of bed, Harry scratched at his bare chest as he brushed aside the curtain that doubled as the bedroom door, moving through into the kitchen seeking food.

"You know you cannot keep him here!"

Faltering at the loud Russian voice that echoed through the door-less house, Harry quickly made himself cereal and padded on bare feet through the snow-covered floor to peer into the living room.

"I don't see why not. He _is_ mine after all".

Blinking slowly as he watched Jack squaring off against Santa Clause, a floating golden man and a giant kangaroo, Harry just pulled the curtain door to the side and leaned against the door-frame, not wanting to miss what was obviously a discussion about him. Unless, of course, Jack had other boys around here that he claimed as his own. And if he did then he and Harry needed to have a few words about sharing, and about how Harry doesn't.

"He is _not_ yours!" Santa shouted at Jack, confusing Harry as to his Russian accent as the large man tugged at his beard in frustration. "He is the _Saviour_! His people need him! You cannot keep him locked up here away from his family!"

"I'd hardly call those loathsome humans he lived with family," Jack argued from where he was perched casually atop his staff, "Nor would I call it 'locking him up', considering that this place doesn't have any doors or windows, just big empty holes with pieces of cloth hanging up to keep out the animals".

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying here Frost," Santa exclaimed.

"Oh no, I do," Jack corrected with a grin, "But what _you_ don't understand, is that I found him, and finders keepers, losers weepers. Besides, I _don't_ share," he added as a dark look flashed across his boyish face.

"You are keeping him from his destiny brat, _that's_ what you can't seem to get through that thick skull o' yours!" the Kangaroo spat angrily in a fitting Australian accent. "'Sides, you don't get to 'keep' humans, it's against the Laws!" the Kangaroo continued as he shifted his weight on Harry's armchair.

Wait… on _Harry's armchair…_

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Harry took a moment to silently approve of the hateful look Jack shot the Kangaroo sitting in his armchair, turning his attention to raising his hand and making a 'come here' gesture towards his bedroom.

"Funny that," Jack snorted, blue eyes flicking to the doorway to meet Harry's green ones. "Destiny don't like being rushed. Trust me, she ended up chasing me out of her place with a bat when I tried. When she _wants_ this 'prophecy' of the humans to be completed then she's set things in motion herself".

"Now listen here," Santa began as Harry's fingers curled around the warm wooden shaft (snigger) of his staff, feeling the power in his chest linking to that of the air around him.

"_YOU LISTEN_!" Jack shouted, Harry tensing up as he watched the winter spirit flipping off his staff and landing in a casual combat-ready stance. "My boy ain't going nowhere!" he snarled out, the temperature dropping sharply as Harry set his bowl down and prepared for a fight if one broke out. "And he especially ain't going anywhere _you_ want him to. It's not like you have any power over him, is it? After all, he ain't one of the little pretty lights on your globe is he?"

"You know of the Globe?" Santa blurted, looking shocked and slightly defensive.

"I snuck Harry in for his thirteenth birthday," Jack confessed with a lazy shrug, "Those yeti of yours are terrible security guards, they left a window open and everything," he explained as Harry watched a small bird-like creature flutter in past the curtain covering the window.

"As did you Jack," the creature said in a feminine voice, "Sorry I'm late. A young girl in China had a fortunate accident with a two-by-four. She has the most lovely teeth".

"Touch my teeth and I'll eat you," Jack threatened bluntly as he clapped his hands over his mouth instantly, narrowing his eyes at who was obviously the Tooth Fairy.

"Sorry Jack, your teeth are so pretty I can't help myself," the Tooth Fairy apologised sheepishly.

"Yeah, well that's not all you lot can't help is it?" Jack muttered dismissively as he turned on Santa and strode across the room, jabbing the butt of his staff into the man's belly accusingly. "Where're all Harry's Christmas presents?" he demanded before turning on the Kangaroo, "His Easter Eggs? And I already know where his teeth are," Jack finished as he glanced over at the Tooth Fairy, "I've had to sneak them away from him because he gave up on putting them under his pillow years before he met me".

Easter Eggs? Wait… was that Kangaroo the Easter Bunny? Fingers clenching around his staff (snigger again), Harry couldn't help but mentally target the Bunny first for when the fight broke out. He had quite the bone to pick with that rabbit.

"Jack. You know – not now Sandy," Santa dismissed, waving the golden man out of the way as he shot in front of the large man and gestured wildly. "You know it's not like that," he continued as Harry smirked at the golden man who glanced at him, wringing his hands nervously.

Oh looky. The Sandman had noticed him.

"That's exactly what it's like," Jack corrected with a sniff. "So thanks, but no thanks, we're fine on our own. We're used to it," he added just to watch Santa and the Tooth Fairy flinch.

"Now listen here!" the Easter Bunny snarled angrily, launching himself at Jack, letting out an adorable squeak as a blast of compressed air hit him mid-air and threw him through the open doorway instead.

"Oh by the Man in the Moon I've wanted to do that for years," Jack murmured as the other three spirits slowly turned to stare at Harry in shock. "Morning Harry!" he added cheerfully as he bounced across the room, his staff held casually in his hand even as they both stood ready for counter-attack, "Pleasant sleep?"

"I got hot after you left," Harry dead-panned, not moving his eyes away from any of the still staring spirits.

"Do you think he knows we're in the middle of the Arctic," the Tooth Fairy stage-whispered to Santa who was just shaking his head in denial.

"Oh Jack," the red man whispered slowly, "You didn't".

"Nope. I didn't," Jack agreed simply. "What didn't I do again?" he asked after a moment's pause.

"You know the Laws Jack," Santa continued, "He can't be allowed to stay like this".

"Well he can't be changed back either," Jack shot back with a sneer, "And he might as well stay here with me – _like he wants to –_ since he can't exactly go back to the real world. How would people react when they find out he ain't completely human any more".

"The Man in Moon will find a way," Santa declared confidently before pausing and glancing around, "Where's Aster? The Bunny?" he clarified when both teenagers just stared at them blankly.

"Oh that, I sent him down to Timbuktu," Harry dismissed, "What? It rhymed with 'Kangaroo', it was the first place I could think of".

"Any way Ol' Jolly," Jack interrupted as Santa opened his mouth to speak, "The Man in the Moon? He's not gonna do a thing. Not when he's the one who made Harry half-spirit in the first place".

* * *

**CHOSEN OF FROST**

* * *

_Inspired by Provider of Odd's_ Power Beacon_ challenge._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians._


	63. Mascot

"You're to be in South Dakota at those coordinates at noon tomorrow. You will mention our meeting and your pending assignment to _no-one_. Is that understood?"

Staring at 'Mrs Frederic' silently for a moment, Pete Lattimer pushed down the growing urge to crack a 007 joke. "How long am I going to be in South Dakota?" he asked instead, part of him wondering if he was _already_ being punished for his screw up at the museum.

"Indefinitely".

"Indefinitely?" he echoed, nodding his head slowly. "No," Pete corrected shaking his head quickly, "No, no, no, no. No, I've got a life _here_".

The look Mrs Frederic sent him seemed to disagree with his argument, as she slowly looked around his apartment with an amused "Really?"

"Yeah!" Pete blurted, "I've got…" he trailed off as he looked around his apartment slowly. "Things," he finished, ignoring the smirk on Mrs Frederic's bodyguard's face, "And a dog!" he added as he quickly pointed out the black Labrador lounging on his bed, "I've a dog!" he repeated smugly.

"Pack light, Mr Lattimer," Mrs Frederic said in farewell, the woman nodding to her bodyguard as she started towards the door. "We'll ship what you need and store the rest".

As the door slammed shut behind the woman's bodyguard, Pete slowly glanced down at the file in his hands, shaking his head slowly as he realised that this was _definitely_ a joke gone too far.

"Also," Mrs Frederic's voice added as she opened the door suddenly, making his hand drop down to his gun. The woman pausing to shoot him an unimpressed glare over her glasses, her eyes flicked past him to his bedroom, "You can bring the dog".

"Great," Pete exhaled as the door shut again, turning to stare at the dog that was wagging his tail happily. "You're a terrible guard dog you know," he whined, "Where was the barking? The 'Oi! Get off my territory?'" he asked, sighing when his only response was a loud woof.

"No?" he muttered under his breath as Harry (named after the great Houdini) slid off the bed and ran into the kitchen. "Dumb dog".

* * *

"Turn right? There's nothing to the right!" Pete exclaimed as he peered into the field to his right.

Ignoring what he swore was a judgemental look coming from the peanut gallery, Pete glared at his GPS as he reversed until he was parked in front of a small cattle gate that seemed to lead down into the canyon-valley-thing.

Sighing slowly Pete drove up to the gate and parked again, staring at it for a moment before glancing over at the passenger's seat. "You think this is it?" he asked slowly, part of him almost hoping the dog would say no… because then his dog would be talking and he'd _know_ this was all a bad dream. When Harry only blinked at him slowly, tongue lolling out as the dog pulled his head back in front of the window, Pete sighed again and shook his head.

"I'll get the gate," he muttered under his breath as he left the car and threw open the gate, not caring enough to shut it behind him as he jumped back into his SUV and drove off down the dirt road towards the gorge.

He was Pete Lattimer. Secret Service. He shouldn't be getting transferred to the middle of Bumfuck USA just because of _one_ _slightly messed up_ mission. Besides, as far as he was concerned, he'd done his job and the President was fine. Just because someone had stolen the creepy voodoo head thingy didn't mean he was wrong or guilty of being wrong. He'd managed to warn that stuck-up librarian chick that he'd felt a vibe, and she'd acted on it as he'd been chasing down the weirdo with the lightning gun thing. Win win as far as he cared… even if he'd actually lost instead of that second win.

"What'ya think Harry?" Pete asked slowly as he pulled up at what looked like an abandoned run-down bomb-shelter dug into the canyon wall. "This the place?"

As Harry growled and tried to climb over him, Pete automatically latched onto his collar and yanked him back, glancing out before sighing and turning back to the dog. "Leave Bessy alone," he ordered firmly, poking his best friend in the nose to catch his attention, "No. Bad. No cows".

Harry seeming to sigh and sag back down in his own seat – totally pouting at Pete – the man turned back to stare at the building before sighing himself and undoing his seatbelt and sliding out of the car, letting Harry out before grabbing his suit jacket and slamming the door shut.

Not even needing to look at his dog to know Harry was obeying him and leaving the cow alone, Pete looked around slowly and removed his sunglasses. "Yeah… endless wonder eh boy?" he asked sarcastically, hearing Harry barking at him from a distance, "I'm ready… promotion!" he drawled before whistling loudly as he started towards the door he could see set into the building's wall. "Come on boy! Maybe they've got some bowls for us to drink from," he joked to himself as he started to pull on his jacket, "I really wish I hadn't drove past that gas station now, I'd kill for some chocolate milk – no you can't have any," he added as he caught sight of Harry's ears perking up at him.

Once again ignoring his dog's unhappy look, Pete slammed his fist into the door, knocking loudly as he cleared his throat. "Hello?" he called out, hoping someone inside would hear him and let them in out of the heat. "Agent Pete Lattimer? I'm here just like you wanted me? Hello?"

Harry's bark caught his attention, and Pete glanced over to where the dog was staring off into the sky, a faint whistling drawing his own eyes up to a small black dot spiralling his way rapidly. Barely having time to realise that he was apparently being _bombed_, Pete jerked away from the missile as it slammed into the building wall beside him, the football bouncing off across the sand as Harry shot after it. Chuckling as he watched his dog almost tripping over himself in an attempt to catch it, Pete crouched down and allowed his friend to deposit a slightly worn and very sloppery football into his hands.

"Thanks. I've always wanted one of-" freezing as he heard a car approaching, both Pete's and Harry's heads snapped around to stare in direction of the road, "-these," he finished as he slowly stood, chucking the ball to the side and shading his eyes as he watched the silver car approaching.

Groaning as Agent Bossy Librarian (which totally wasn't a turn on for him) climbed out of her own car with an annoyed expression, Pete shot Harry an unhappy look of his own. "I don't want one of those though," he lied bluntly, the dog replying with a disbelieving look before letting out a rumbling growl as the other Agent approached them.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, "I heard you were suspended".

"Yeah. I heard that too," Pete confessed – mainly because it was true – before slowly stepping in front of Harry when she shot his dog a disgusted look.

"I wouldn't go near that thing if I were you," the Agent warned, "You never know what strays could have".

"Aside from fleas he's got an endless stomach," Pete drawled, not liking this woman even more now she'd insulted his dog. "He's mine".

"Of course you're a dog person," the Agent muttered under her breath, speaking more to herself than to either of them. "Why are you here?" she asked again.

"I've been promoted," Pete dead-panned, "Some lovely lady named 'Mrs Frederic' ordered me here. Said it was a-"

"Matter of National Security?" the Agent interrupted, the two of them nodding slowly as they both found either things to look at. "Yeah. Me too," the woman admitted slowly.

His hand automatically flying to his gun as Harry let out a throaty snarl, Pete turned around in time to see the door to the building begin creaking open loudly. Exchanging a look with his dog, Pete started forward, Harry slinking across the ground almost on his belly as they approached the door with a disgruntled looking Lady Agent quickly catching up with a hand on her own gun. "You could have waited for me," she hissed in annoyance, "Instead of taking orders from a dog".

"I don't take orders, I give them," Pete corrected bluntly, not wanting to talk about it, only to falter as both Lady Agent _and_ Harry gave snorts of disbelief.

"Whoa that's creepy," the Agent blurted as she stared down at Harry, "Does he do that often? Act like he knows what we're saying?"

"I swear that dog's smarter than I am," Pete confessed, only half-jokingly.

"Well _I_ swear that can't be hard," the Agent countered automatically, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yo Harry, I think Lady Agent is more your kind than mine," Pete said loudly, "After all. She's definitely acting more like a bit-"

"How you guys doing?"

Whipping around as his mouth snapped shut, Pete stared at the figure before them as it pulled the mask away from its face and took off his hat. "Sorry I'm late," the man from the museum apologised, "I uh… had to fix the fish".

"Hey! Whoa!" Pete exclaimed, pulling his gun as Harry snarled, "Hold it there".

"What are you doing?" the Lady Agent asked slowly even as Pete's eyes flicked down to Harry.

"See Harry? I told you I wasn't insane. This is the guy from the museum, the one who stole the creepy bleeding rock," Pete explained, not making a good case for his sanity as he spoke to his dog as per his usual habit.

"_You_ stole the rock," Lady Agent pointed out.

"It's actually a Blood Stone," Thief Man corrected, "It's safe, it's inside the building if you want to check it out".

"I want to check it out and return it to the museum," Pete argued, "It's theirs!"

"And they belong to the United States, which so does the Warehouse," Thief Man dismissed, "Come to think about it. So do I!" he declared. "So Secret Service. I also work for Mrs Frederic. I'm Doctor Nielson. You can call me Artie".

"You got some ID?" Lady Agent asked as Pete exchanged a confused look with Harry, who looked just as bewildered as he did.

"Uh no?" Artie admitted, "We take the secret part very seriously around here. Oh! And I just want to thank you, for your help in last night's retrieval," the man added turning to point at Pete, "Made my job easier. It was very good. Oh! Hi puppy!" he greeted happily as he caught sight of Harry. "Come on, come on inside. I'll show you around".

The two Agents and the Dog just stood there for a moment, none of them making any move to join Artie as he half-entered the 'Warehouse'.

"Come on," Artie repeated, "I made cookies?" he offered.

Pete and Harry were moving before they could stop themselves, both scrambling towards the door and a grinning Artie as he started inside.

* * *

"I think she had other plans," Pete mused slowly as he glanced over at Artie.

"So did I," the sighing man agreed as he stood and moved over to stand before Pete, the two staring at each other for a moment. "Do you want juice or are you a milk person?" Artie asked suddenly, making Pete chuckle.

"Do you know what I'd really like?" Pete muttered to himself.

"Oh I do, but falling off the wagon isn't the best option," Artie countered, knowing exactly what Pete was meaning without him actually needing to say it. After the two stared for a moment longer, Artie just nodded, "Milk it is".

"Yeah. Juice for Harry though," Pete added quickly as the man left, "Milk makes him gassy".

Artie paused and glanced back at Harry, who was sitting at Pete's feet. "Right. The calcium in the milk reacts strangely with the digestive tracts of all shape-shifters, not sure why," the man explained before turning and leaving the room.

Blinking down at the suddenly shifty-looking Harry, Pete could only groan. "Shape-shifters?" he echoed.

"Uh-huh," Artie's voice called out, "Might be some ancient native american spirit shifter. Could be some kind of artifact-based transformation. Or my least favourite of all," the man added as he stuck his head back in through the doorway, "It could be one of those blasted European people who were exposed to the artifact known as the 'Breath of Hecate', it gave them magic powers, one of which was shape-shifting. They're a bunch of arrogant bastards if you've ever met one".

As Artie popped back into the kitchenette, Pete just stared down at Harry, who shrugged back up at him, the picture of complete innocence.

"I could probably find something to change him back you know?" Artie offered as he re-entered the room with his arms full of plates and cups. "Should have something in here that can turn him back into his natural state," the man explained as he shuffled things around until Pete was holding a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, leaving Artie to set two bowls – one of juice and the other of cookies – on the floor for Harry. "Won't be that hard".

Looking down at Harry, who was completely ignoring him and stuffing his face full of food, Pete could only shrug as he looked back up to Artie.

"Maybe later".

* * *

**MASCOT**

* * *

_Inspired by Whitetigerwolf's _Animagus Lover _challenge._

_So… I'm not entirely sure about what this is, but I was chatting with a friend about his own challenge when I stumbled across WTW's and this idea blossomed from the chaotic mess that is my mind. If you hadn't guessed, Harry's the dog named Harry._

_And I dunno about you guys, but I kinda like it. :D_

_The Undercover Operative can't claim to own either Harry Potter or Warehouse 13._


	64. Incandescent

Harry James Potter swayed back and forth, the rusty chains of the swing set creaking ominously in the night.

If someone where to look at his face, they'd probably say he was lost in thought. But if they were able to see into his mind itself, they'd see that he was actually so lost that it was like he had gotten turned around in the woods and somehow ended up in the middle of the Arctic.

The topic that he was so lost in, was both a simple one, and the most complicated topic he'd ever imagined.

War. Or more specifically, the _lack_ of war.

The Dark Lord Voldemort had returned at the end of last year, and even though the Ministry's official stance was 'Deny, Deny, Deny', there was a surprising lack of _anything_ in either the muggle or magical news. The magical news was overrun with a smear campaign against both Harry and Albus Dumbledore, while the muggle news was finding itself so out of interesting news that they're covering old ladies who named their cats after the seven dwarves.

It was almost like Voldemort was in hiding. Which honestly, Harry could understand, it made some kind of sense to stay under the radar for as long as one could while everyone else covered their ears in denial. If Harry wasn't so certain that Fudge was just so stupid and cowardly, then he'd be suspicious that the man was on Voldemort's side.

The sound of thunder pulled his mind back to the present, making him glance up into the sky to eye the black clouds he could see approaching in the distance. He needed to leave now, if he didn't beat Dudley back to Privet Drive then Vernon would probably try lock him out all night again. And unfortunately, the brewing thunderstorm would only make his obese cousin waddle home faster, lessening the amount of time Harry had to get back.

Standing and letting his feet walk a familiar path on their own, Harry's mind faded into the background again as he returned to his thoughts.

And thinking about taking sides during this war. What side was Dumbledore on exactly? Harry had long since accepted that when Voldemort returned, (when, not if), that he'd be a 'high-profile' target considering the Dark Lord's obsession with him. He'd also assumed that Dumbledore had realised this as well. Especially since Harry himself had also been the one 'lucky' enough to take part in the ritual that resurrected Voldemort. And not only that, but Harry had fought the Dark Lord and won _four_ times.

But yet, where was Harry? Where was the only person other than Dumbledore to fight Voldemort and win? He was stuck in Privet Drive with his abusive 'family', while his best friends acted like he didn't exist! Well screw them, he decided. If they were going to treat him like this then he could return the favour.

His vision blurring suddenly, Harry paused to lean against the wall, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. And just to make these holidays the best he'd ever had, he was pretty sure he was coming down with something. He'd been sweaty all day, his palms and nose red, and a strange exhausting pressure coming from behind his eyes.

A rolling crash above his head made Harry start violently, hands raising to shield himself even as he flinched away from the thunder roaring through the sky. Shaking off the nervousness that gripped his stomach, Harry glanced up at the black storm clouds, faltering slightly as he realised they were above his head already. Licking his lips nervously at the sight, Harry started walking faster, part of him wondering if there was a magical reason behind the storm.

Cutting down the alleyway between Magnolia and Wisteria, a wisp of icy-white mist erupting from his mouth made him freeze. Exhaling slowly again and watching as his breath iced over, Harry raised his hands to pat at flushed cheeks and rub over warm arms.

Why was his breath icing over when he was so warm? Despite his cold breath, Harry himself wasn't at all cold, feeling rather toasty dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Raising a hand to his boiling forehead, Harry frowned, he didn't have a fever did he? He remembered that dragon-pox was a magical illness that generally involved fevers, high temperatures, and glowing angry red spots all over his skin. Basically dragon-pox was just like chickenpox, only it was magical and generally happened in adults instead of children. Not wanting to be locked out all night if he had a fever (or worse… dragon-pox), Harry started down the alleyway, only making it halfway before the street-lamps on either side of the alley suddenly went dead.

Shifting slowly on his feet, Harry's hand crept towards his back pocket, suspicion and nervousness flooding him as he caught sight of the street-lamps down the street flickering on and off as if in response to magic. Shivering as another dizzy spell swept over him, Harry slowly drew his hands away from his wand, glancing down at them and promptly freezing at the sight of his right palm.

It was glowing…

Clenching his hand shut in fear, Harry looked to his left hand and found it glowing even brighter than his right. It was him? He was the source of the magic? Could it be his magical majority? Sirius had explained that to him, that around his sixteenth birthday he'd start experiencing fluctuations in his magic as it grew in preparation for his coming of age.

No, it couldn't be. He was fifteen. And as different as Harry bloody Potter always was, there was no way that he could possibly be going through his magical majority an entire _year_ too early. Besides, what kind of magical majority could he be going through that could leave his palms burning and glowing.

Thunder made Harry freeze, glancing up to where he could see the black clouds, swirling around straight above his head. As the wind picked up, whipping at Harry's hair and clothes, he watched as lightning arced between the clouds. Something was definitely wrong, Harry had neither the knowledge nor the power required to create a storm like this. And no matter what was happening to his magic, he knew that the alien presence he could somehow _sense_ within the storm wasn't related to him at all.

Footsteps made him stiffen, his hands snapping down as he shoved them into his pockets, knowing that glowing palms weren't normal even in the magical world as he turned to face the source of the footsteps. Moments later, the shambling hulking silhouette of his cousin appeared at the mouth of the alley as the teenager started down it, his attention completely occupied by the bar of chocolate he was gnawing on.

Feeling the sweat dripping from his brow onto his cheek, Harry resisted the urge to hurl and instead straightened his back and shoulders, knowing he couldn't show weakness in front of his prison-bound cousin. "What are you doing here Freak?" his cousin's voice demanded, making him slowly glance up to watch Dudley who was watching him – and his glowing pockets – with fear even as he continued eating.

"Hey Big D" Harry began slowly, not going to lay down and let his cousin walk all over him when he was in this mood. "Beat up another ten year old?"

"This one deserved it" Dudley spat, coming to a stop just outside of arm's reach from Harry. "He cheeked me, he did".

"Really?" Harry drawled slowly, faking surprise. "Did he say you looked like a pig that's been taught to walk? Cause that's not cheek, oh Duddykins, that's true" he taunted innocently.

Satisfaction flooded Harry as he caught the way his cousin's fleshy jaw twitched and his face flushed in anger. While he couldn't raise his wand and hex his cousin, he could always relieve his stress by insulting Dudley since the fat boy was too slow to catch the youngest Seeker in a century.

"Think you're a big man carrying that _thing_ do you?" Dudley sneered, raising his hand to gesture at Harry's glowing pockets. "Don't have the guts to take me on without it do you?"

"As opposed to you" Harry countered, nodding at Dudley's stomach, "You're pretty much all gut aren't you? Except," he continued as Dudley sneered, pulling his glowing hands from his pockets and opening them to show his cousin they were empty, "I don't have my wand, and I'm still twice the man you are – whereas you're just the _size_ of two men".

Hiding his grin as Dudley blinked at him dumbly, Harry swayed in place for a moment as his vision blurred again. "What's wrong with you?" Dudley asked cautiously, "You're not gonna puke are you?"

Ignoring his surprise that his cousin had even noticed he wasn't feeling well, Harry just glared up at the fat boy, the burning glow in his palms feeling like it was about to burst. As the street-lamps finally shut off entirely, the alleyway lit up only by the moonlight and the glow radiating from Harry's palms, the raven-haired wizard ignored his cousin's look of terror and instead chose to raise his hands so he could see properly.

"Stop that," Dudley ordered, his voice trembling as Harry tried to peer into the distance to find the cause of the broken street-lamps. "Turn the lights back on you freak".

"You know Dudley," Harry mused slowly as his fingers twitched with the urge to draw his wand, "You might get further in life if you just said 'Please' once in a while".

"Stop it! I don't like it!" Dudley shouted, making Harry glance over at his cousin with a frown, faltering at the sight of the large teenager curling up against the fall, looking clammy and pale.

"Dudley?"

"I said stop it!" Dudley yelled, burying his head in his hands and trying to cover his ears, "_Leave me alone Freak_!"

The question of 'What in Merlin's name was happening to Dudley' was answered all too quickly in Harry's opinion, as instinct made him turn around in time to duck under the dementor that lunged for his face.

Staring after the demon-wraith in shock, because _what were dementors doing in Little Whinging?_ Harry scrambled back across the ground as the dementor turned and gave chase. Not even having time to ponder why he wasn't feeling the dread-inducing aura, he felt his back hitting the wall of the alleyway and raised his hands automatically, realising seconds later that he had yet to draw his wand.

He didn't need his wand though, it seemed, as the moment the dementor came within the radius of his glowing hands it let out a furious hiss and launched itself backwards.

Connecting the dots with a speed that Hermione would be proud of, Harry pushed himself off the wall and staggered across the alleyway to collapse down next to Dudley, his hands extended and keeping them both safe from the rattling dementors. He had to get Dudley to safety, his cousin remaining clearly trapped in his own mind under the dementor's aura – only Harry couldn't lower his hands to move Dudley without giving the dementor the opening it needed to attack.

As the burning in his palms came to what felt like its peak, Harry watched in horror as the light went out, plunging the alleyway into darkness. Then, as a spark flickered in his right palm, the light came back with a vengeance and illuminated every rotted scale of the dementor's hand poised inches from Harry's face. Everything seeming frozen, Harry looked up into the dementor's hood, feeling like just the sight alone would make him sick. Everything started moving again with a start, no longer burning him the light from his palms tore into the dementor's chest, the dark creature letting out an unearthly shriek that felt like it burst Harry's eardrums as he watched it being shredded by the light cutting through it.

The dementor exploding into dust, Harry stared out at the opposite wall in shock, a low hiss making his eyes flick up to see a second dementor hovering just above the rooftop. Raising his hands to aim the two beams of light at it, the dementor shot off into the night before Harry could destroy that too, a shuddering gasp from Dudley implying that he was now free.

Slowly pushing himself to his feet, Harry remained leaning against the wall as he looked around cautiously, before lowering his eyes down to the light still shining from his palms. This wasn't normal magic. This was like nothing he'd ever heard or read about before, something told him that not even Hermione or Dumbledore would know what this was if he told them about it. It didn't even _feel_ like magic, the power pulsing in his chest was certainly nothing like his magic.

What was happening to him?

* * *

**INCANDESCENT**

* * *

_I'm not entirely sure_ what_ this is inspired by… after all I can't decide whether it's an X-Men crossover and Harry's a mutant or if it's a Lorien Legacies crossover where Harry's a Loric Garde._

_It could go either way, and then many more other directions in addition to that, so I'm not going to bother listing all the different fandoms this could be part of and I'm just going to say that I'll never own Harry Potter because I suck._


	65. Blank

Across the camp-site, Harry Potter could hear off-key singing, and the occasional bang or crack of fireworks as the Irish celebrated their win.

It was, rather surprisingly in fact, rather calming to the young raven-haired wizard, who found himself drifting between waking and sleep in a gentle doze. Partly aware of the noise of the also celebrating Weasleys, the other half of Harry's mind was filled with fantasies – of him soaring into the quidditch stadium in Gryffindor Red robes astride his firebolt as everyone screamed his name.

"Oh… I'm _so_ glad I'm not on duty," Mr Weasley's voice murmured quietly, Harry missing out the rest of what the man was going to say as he fell back into sleep. When he came back to himself, it was to the red-haired man shouting, "GET UP! GET UP! RON! HARRY! HURRY UP – BOTH OF YOU!"

Half falling off the top bunk, Harry blinked up at the panicked looking man in confusion, as he watched the Weasley Patriarch staggering around the tent and pulling his children and shoving them towards the door. Grabbing Harry's jacket from the floor and shoving into his arms as Mr Weasley pushed him towards Hermione and guided the two of them towards the tent door as well, slipping something small into Harry's hand.

As he finally woke up completely, Harry felt shivers running down his spine as he realised what was wrong – the happy singing had transformed into terrified screaming, and the cracking of fireworks had turned into loud explosions of spell-fire.

"GET INTO THE WOODS!" Mr Weasley ordered as he basically dragged them all outside, tapping Bill, Charlie, and Percy on the shoulders and gesturing towards the direction of the screaming and the fires burning in the night. "Get into the woods you lot! Stay safe, stay away from everyone else! You two," he added pointing at Fred and George, "Look after your sister, and – and just stay safe, all of you".

As Mr Weasley turned and sprinted off after his elder sons, Harry watched as Fred quickly lifted Ginny off the ground and threw her over his shoulder, George doing the same with Ron. "Run you two!" the twins shouted simultaneously as they shoved Harry and Hermione towards the forest, ignoring Ron's indignant squawks as they started running.

Feeling a flicker of amusement as he watched Ron bouncing on his brother's shoulders, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started running after them, fighting the part of him that wanted to look over his shoulder as he instead focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Drawing his wand as he ran, Harry unashamedly threw a curse at someone who stumbled into their way, his stinging hex knocking the man to the side with a yelp.

Ignoring Hermione's wordless cry of disapproval, Harry kept dragging her along, not willing to lose one of his friends to the chaos raging around them. He had a hard enough time _sleeping_ in the same room with the other Gryffindors of their year, he didn't want to think about what would happen to him if he lost either of his best friends – an image of old Mrs Figg from Privet Drive flashed through his mind, the woman all alone with only a horde of cats for company.

That image was one too real for Harry to want to think about, he instead kept pushing forward, both he and Hermione using their wands to clear their path of any obstacles or burning debris.

Almost tripping over a small rabbit-hole in the ground, Harry managed to right himself in time to see a tornado of black smoke touching down in front of them, a man dressed in black robes with a bone-white mask stepping from it as he sent a stream of black fire towards a tent bearing a grinning leprechaun's face. As the tent went up in flames, Harry followed Hermione as she started to tug him away from the robed man and after the twins, keeping his wand locked on the man in case he turned and saw them.

"Death Eaters," Hermione hissed as they ducked behind a tent, the two of them crouching there paralysed as they looked at the wide open space between them and the Weasleys. "You-Know-Who's servants," she explained as Harry's mind raced.

Instead of responding, Harry waved his arms to catch the twins' attention, trying to convey through gestures that he and Hermione would catch up and that they should run. "When I say," he whispered, trying to peer around the tent at the 'Death Eater' hurling destructive spells around, "Run".

"But Harry!" Hermione began.

"Run," he interrupted, not wanting to sit there and argue as he grabbed her hand again, keeping the tent between them and the Death Eater as they ran away from the dark wizard. "We'll circle, meet up with the Weasleys in the forest," he explained as they dove behind another tent, "It'll be simple, like wizard's chess".

"This _isn't_ chess," Hermione countered.

"I hope not," Harry confessed bluntly, "I'm crap at chess". Almost leaving it there, Harry glanced over at Hermione, freezing as he saw the tears forming in her eyes, "Hey, hey. We'll be fine," he promised, trying to simultaneously assure Hermione and watch over her shoulder for the Death Eater. "We'll get out this. If we can take on Voldemort, his basilisk and an army of dementors, then I think we can get out of this safely yeah?"

As Hermione blinked away her tears, leaving her beautiful brown eyes locked onto his, Harry found himself leaning forward before he could help himself, pressing his lips against hers awkwardly. "We'll get out of this," he repeated as he pulled away from the shocked girl, "I won't let _anyone_ hurt you".

What Hermione was about to say went in one ear and out the other, as his eyes flicked past her to the Death Eater standing there, watching in growing horror as the man turned to face them. Freezing, the two of them staring each other for a second or two, Harry reacted the only way he could – as a cry of _"AVADA KEDAVRA!_" filled the air, he reached out and shoved Hermione away, watching as she hit the ground and the spell flew right over to hit him in the chest.

"_HARRY! HARRY NO!"_

"_Step aside silly girl!"_

"_NOT HARRY! PLEASE NOT HARRY!"_

"_I'll only ask one more time"._

"_Not my son!"_

"_HARRY!"_

Eyes snapping open, Harry stared up at into the night sky for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on.

Flinching as an explosion sounded nearby – leaving his ears ringing - he rolled scrambled to his feet, looking around what seemed to be a camp-site on fire, pretty much every tent he could see burning or destroyed. As his hearing returned, Harry didn't even have the time to duck as blade of what looked like black light tore through the tent beside him, the light coming so close he could have sworn he felt the heat and anger it let off. Spinning about as a scream filled the air, he watched as a man in a long black dress wearing a mask, hurled bolts of light at a younger strangely familiar brown-haired girl wearing pyjamas.

"PROTEGO!"

With her scream, Harry watched as a shimmering wall of blue energy appeared before her, the red light that the man threw hitting it and causing the wall to shatter in a purple explosion.

"_**Protego. More commonly known as the 'shielding charm', protego is a spell that creates a magical barrier before the caster, that can be used to deflect physical entities and spells. Now get your wands out… that's right… and repeat after me..."**_

Flinching back as the small squeaky voice cut painfully through his head, Harry dropped to his knees and clutched at his head as it felt like his skull had cracked open upon every word the voice had said.

Gasping for breath, Harry looked back up at the girl as she stuttered out the charm again, watching as it shattered again the moment the man's spell hit it. She was doing it wrong, he could see it from where he was kneeling, she was cutting the gesture off too early and she wasn't putting enough magic into the spell – the spell, because magic was real apparently. He couldn't remember how he knew, but he knew that magic was real, and that he could use it.

Movement drew his eyes to the man in a dress, Harry watching in horror as he pulled his hand back and threw a bolt of purple fire at the girl. He couldn't stop it, he wouldn't be able to get there in time to knock her out of the way of the spell… but he _could_ do this.

"Protego".

Letting out a shuddering gasp as he felt what must have been his magic surging up inside his chest, Harry directed it all down his outstretched arm and into the shield charm, a half-dome of shining blue magic appearing before the girl. As the purple fire splashed across the surface of the dome, he could feel foreign magic pressing down on his own, a snarl escaping his lungs as he pushed back. After a split-second pause, the purple fire reformed into a bolt as it was deflected from the shield charm that fell apart as Harry's arm dropped to his side.

Launching himself into action as the man in a dress was forced to throw himself to the side ungracefully to avoid his own purple fire, Harry sprinted across the clearing towards the girl, ignoring how she turned to him with a whispered "Harry?" as he grabbed her still raised arm and almost tore it from its socket as he started pulling her away from the man.

Dragging her towards the forest, hoping they could lose the man in there, Harry refused to look behind him. He couldn't fight the man, he could only remember how to use the shield charm, he didn't remember any other spells he could possibly fight the man with. (Why couldn't he remember? Why was everything before this camp gone? What was this camp even for? And why did he recognise the girl when he didn't even know what _he_ looked like?)

"_Harry!_" the girl hissed as they dove into the trees, having zigzagged through the tents to avoid the man's sight. "Harry stop!"

Finally allowing them to slow down, he pulled the girl behind a tree and nervously peered around it, hands ready to cast another shielding charm as he searched for the man. "Shut up!" he spat as the girl started talking, "Not yet". When he was certain that the man wasn't going to show up out of the blue uninvited, Harry slowly nodded his head, taking a deep breath as he stepped away from the tree and turned to face the girl. "Okay," he gasped out as he gently lowered his hands down to his knees, greedily sucking in the air their run had stolen from them, "Now you can talk".

"How are you alive?" the girl blurted, hovering there as her hands twitched with some unknown (to Harry at least) urge.

"Should I be dead?" he countered, blinking up at the girl in confusion.

Squeaking in response, the girl launched herself at him, making Harry stiffen as she pulled him into a crushing – yet familiar – hug. "That was the Killing Curse, Harry," the girl exclaimed tearfully, making Harry cringe at the idea of a crying girl, "_Nobody_ survives the Killing Curse".

"Except for me, apparently," Harry muttered to himself.

"Again? Yes," the girl agreed, still not letting him go, "How did you survive it again?"

"Again?"

The girl nodded quickly, stepping back and reaching out to hold his hand, "Come on. We have to find the Weasleys," she said hesitantly. "We have to – Did you mean it?" she asked instead.

"Did I mean what?" was Harry's confused reply, neither knowing what 'it' was, nor what the Weasleys were.

"The kiss, Harry," the girl snapped, looking torn as she stared up at him, "You kissed m-" the girl stopped suddenly, her mouth opening and closing slowly as she frowned. "What happened to your eyes?" she blurted, making his hands rise up to tenderly touch the skin around them, "They've changed colour".

"What colour are they now? And what colour were they before," Harry asked nervously.

"Green. They're still green," the girl assured him quickly, "But they're not the same colour, they're… more pastel green, instead of the same colour as the Killing Curse and – _of course_!" the girl exclaimed, talking more to herself than to Harry. "The Killing Curse! Nobody has survived it before you, maybe changing your eye colour was one of it's side effects? You know, instead of killing you?" she finished uncertainly.

"Side effects?" Harry questioned, making the girl nod. "I think I've found another side effect," he admitted, leaving him the focus of the girl's beautiful brown eyes. "I don't know who I am," he said bluntly, making her blink at him in confusion, "I don't don't remember anything".

* * *

**BLANK**

* * *

_If you want anyone to blame for this chapter, blame DZ2 for his awesome story simply entitled _'Run'_, which was based off his own challenge called _'Who Am I'._ Reading his story sparked this idea in my brain, and I couldn't get rid of it any way other than writing it down – so here it is._


	66. Oracle

Harry Potter was _not_ a happy wizard.

Professor Trelawney, his Divination teacher, reminded him of one of those 'psychics' he'd seen on TV whenever he managed a peak – and despite his dislike of studying, Harry was actually afraid that his grades would reflect the skill of his teacher, who was a complete and utter fraud.

He wasn't sure how he knew that she was a fraud, but something inside him just _knew_ she was.

And not only that, but the smoky incense that shrouded the Divination tower burnt his nose, and made him hot, heavy and sleepy all at the same time. He speculated that it was intended to dull their senses, so they never realised that they were all being played by the wannabe 'Seer' sitting before them all.

"You have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you," Trelawney continued, "If you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can only take you so far in this field".

Unable to help himself, Harry glanced over at Hermione to find a look of horror on her face, apparently finding the very idea of a useless book to be worse than death itself.

"Many witches and wizards, talented as they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of-"

"She said 'penetrate'," Seamus' voice interrupted, a ripple of sniggers rolling across the classroom.

"-Of the future," Trelawney finished curtly, turning to squint through her thick glasses at Seamus in annoyance. "It is a _Gift_, granted to too few. YOU!" she shrieked suddenly, making them all jump as she whirled around to point at Neville, who almost fell off his pouffe in shock. "Is your grandmother well?

"I- I think so?" Neville replied nervously.

Trelawney just grimaced, shaking her head slightly as she looked away. "I wouldn't," she said simply, "Tell her to try washing her hat, the dust in the feathers doesn't sit well with women of her age".

"We will be covering the basic forms of Divination this year," Trelawney continued, turning her back entirely on Neville who was frantically scribbling down her words. "The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we will progress onto palmistry. By the way, my dear," she added quickly glancing over at Parvati Patil and sending her a happy smile, "'Ware the red-headed man".

Glancing over her shoulder at them, Parvati eyed Ron nervously and shuffled a little closer, her movements distracting Harry who flinched back as he realised that Trelawney had moved up to stand beside him and was leaning over to squint at him carefully.

"Oh do stop moving," Trelawney muttered as he bent away from her, "I'm trying to See".

Cringing slightly as Trelawney removed her glasses and sniffed at him, Harry sent the sniggering Ron a hopeful look, turning to Hermione when the boy did nothing but giggle. 'Help me' he mouthed to Hermione, who's lip was twitching in a suspicious manner as Trelawney let out a sudden humming noise and nodded her head dramatically.

"OO!"

Jumping and almost falling off his own pouffe as the Professor let out an excited scream, Harry looked around desperately for help as Trelawney skipped across the room happily, scooping up a crystal ball and practically _bouncing_ back to deposit it into a confused Harry's hands.

"What do you See, my boy?" the Professor asked, practically trembling as she stared at him hopefully, having put her glasses back on so she could see him. "What is the weather going to be like tomorrow evening? Perhaps?"

"Uh…" Harry paused and glanced down at the crystal ball as Hermione let out a quiet snort of disbelief, "Fog? It's going to be foggy?" he tried hesitantly.

Silence answered him, and Harry slowly glanced up at Professor Trelawney, who was giving him the best 'Really?' look he'd even see in his life. Sighing as he looked around and caught sight of all the expectant expressions, Harry shook his head and returned his attention to the crystal ball in front of him.

"What do I even do?" he asked after a moment of staring into it, "Do I need to concentrate on something? Is there an incantation I have to-" cutting off suddenly as everything blurred, Harry stiffened as he tried to pull his eyes away from the only sharp object he could see – the crystal ball – only to find his entire body was frozen in place as the smoke within the ball swirled and twisted.

What was the weather going to be like tomorrow evening?

The smoke inside the crystal ball moved suddenly, thinning out until he couldn't see it anymore, Harry watching as the evening sun shone down on Hogwarts castle, casting faint rainbows around through the faint drizzle that was raining down.

"Harry? Harry?"

Pulling back with a snap, Harry gasped for breath as he shoved the crystal ball away from himself, staring after it in horror as Hermione's hand tightened on his upper arm.

"Harry?" she asked cautiously.

Looking up at her in confusion, Harry blinked at her before his head snapped around to look at a satisfied looking Trelawney, who just raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. "It'll rain," he blurted, "Just a sun shower though, it'll still be light out".

Trelawney just hummed as, with a flick of her wand, she summoned the crystal ball into her hands. "Perhaps it will," she said non-committally, tucking the ball into her robes where it vanished, "Now. If you will all divide into pairs? Please collect a tea-cup from the shelf, come to me and I will fill it".

Brushing off Ron and Hermione's concerned looks, it was a shaken Harry who made to stand, only for Trelawney to quickly add, "Not you. Mister Potter. You can get out your book – _Unclogging the Future_ – of which you should all have a copy?" Trelawney peered around at the nodding students, before nodding herself and turning back to Harry. "Please read the introductory chapter," she instructed, "You can join the rest of the class in reading the tea leaves tomorrow, once your inner eye is rested and at less risk of straining".

"You don't strain your 'inner eye'," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Really?" Ron questioned, blinking at the girl in confusion, "Mum always said that if I roll my eyes too much I'll end up straining them".

"I said 'inner eye'," Hermione corrected, "I'm not an ophthalmologist".

"Wha?"

"An eye doctor, seriously Ronald," Hermione sniffed as she pushed herself up and stalked towards the front of the room.

"What's up with her?" Ron asked defensively, peering around at Harry.

"I don't think she likes this class," Harry murmured absently, eyes being drawn to the crystal ball that had somehow reappeared on the table at the front of the room. "She'll probably drop out of it soon".

"_Hermione_? Drop out of a class?" Ron said with a snort.

"Yeah. Pro'ly around Easter, actually," Harry dismissed, shaking his head as he grabbed his book and opened it, setting himself in to read it with a grimace.

* * *

Staring out across the castle grounds, Harry ignored the sounds of the common room as he fiddled with his wand, curled up on the windowsill as he watched the shape that was Hagrid moving around his garden.

"She's probably waiting for you, you know".

Jumping as he forced his mind back to the present, Harry turned to face Parvati, who was leaning against the wall opposite him. "She said that her classroom was open to all who wished to discuss the beyond," Parvati continued, "She even invited me back on weekends… but something tells me that she was talking to you," the girl explained.

"Who?" Harry asked dumbly, pretending not to know who the other Gryffindor was talking about.

"Professor Trelawney, of course," Parvati said, confirming his fears. "She thinks there's something special about you, I asked around and she never treats anyone else like she did you yesterday".

"Great. Just what I need," Harry muttered, "Another 'Boy-Who-Lived groupie'".

"I don't think she cares, she may not even know," Parvati corrected, "She doesn't bother herself with the workings of the present after all. I was there first, you know?" she asked suddenly, "My family have always been rather gifted when it comes to the Art of Divination, and I wanted to introduce myself to the Professor before class started. She was very friendly, especially once I introduced myself fully, it was like she knew my name," the Indian girl mused to herself, "Like she'd been waiting to meet me. Anyway, she was just saying about how she went to Hogwarts with my mother, when suddenly she freezes and her head snaps around to stare at the trapdoor".

Parvati sniffed and peered out the window, before glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. "And then in _you_ come," she continued, "She didn't even know who you were for a moment, but then she said your name and looked really sad about something, before sending me to sit down".

"I think you need to go see her," Parvati finished simply, turning to face Harry fully. "If not for her, then for you".

"Whatdaya mean?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Parvati's eyebrow rose sharply, before the Indian girl leaned forward and stared past him, making him glance out into the raining – yet sunny – sky. "The moment it started raining you closed off," she explained bluntly, "We both know why".

* * *

Swallowing nervously, Harry stared up at the trapdoor, part of him wanting to go run back to Gryffindor Tower and hide in his dorm room while the other part of him wanted to man up and just knock.

Midway through thinking about hiding in Gryffindor tower, Harry remembered with a start that _he_ was a Gryffindor, and that Gryffindors were brave. Steeling himself and straightening his back and shoulders, he pushed forward and half-climbed the ladder, raising a hand to knock only to falter again, instead choosing to just open the unlocked door and climb into the classroom.

Taking a deep breath and feeling the incense washing over him, he resisted the urge to sneeze as he shut the trapdoor behind him, looking around the classroom hesitantly. Where would Professor Trelawney be? He knew that a teacher's classroom was connected to their living quarters – Professor McGonagall's office door being around the corner from her classroom – but he didn't know where he'd find Trelawney's door.

Looking around slowly, Harry barely managed to bite back a yelp as he turned and bumped face-first into a broad chest, stumbling back and hitting the ground as he stared up at the _huge _shirtless man standing before him.

"Oh! Um uh, sorry?" Harry blurted, quickly scrambling to his feet and averting his eyes as the man just stood there unblinkingly. "Do you… do you know where I can find Professor Trelawney?" he asked, not asking what he really wanted to ask as he tried to look the man in the eyes without glancing down at his muscular chest. (Which, _come on_, why did everyone have to be so much fitter than he was? Even the _girls_ on the Quidditch team had abs, he did just as much training as they did! Why was _he_ always the runt?)

"Harry Potter?"

"Uh yeah? That's me," he confirmed when the man just continued staring. "Do you know where she is?"

The man didn't answer, instead choosing to start circling Harry slowly, padding quietly on bare feet as Harry realised he must have disturbed the man while he'd been sleeping, since he was only wearing a loose pair of what looked like golden pyjamas. Was _he_ Trelawney's husband or something? To be sleeping near her classroom?

"You're younger than I expected".

"Really?" Harry dead-panned, blinking at the man in confusion, "My birthday never changes".

The man once again didn't reply, finally coming to a stop and pulling a crystal ball out of nowhere. As Harry tried to subtly find where it came from, the man glanced down into it, Harry's eyes being drawn up to it as he swore it glowed slightly.

"You _are_ the one, it seems," the man murmured to himself, his warm voice sounding surprised and reluctant.

"The one? What one?" Harry questioned.

"Never matter," the man dismissed, raising a hand to – wait, where did the crystal ball go? - to run it through his short blonde hair. "Your training will begin immediately, well done Sybill".

"I could feel him from the staircase," Trelawney's voice said suddenly, making Harry jump and spin around to where the woman was sitting in her armchair, her hair tied back and her glasses on the side-table beside her as she gently stroked what appeared to be Crookshanks. "I knew immediately he was one of us, but I wasn't sure how powerful he was until he foretold this afternoon's weather".

"One of you? Who _are_ you?" Harry blurted, "What what do you mean 'how powerful he was'? What's going on?"

Trelawney and the man exchanged a silent look, the two seemingly arguing for a moment before Trelawney turned to squint at him, a wave of her hand causing her glasses to appear on her face. "You, my boy, are one of us," she began slowly, "However it had to be seen whether you were like myself, or whether you were like Taye here".

"What do you mean?"

"I, am one supremely Gifted in the Art of Divination," Trelawney explained, not bragging as she merely just stated the facts. "In fact, I have the Gift of Prophecy, having given many prophecies in my time".

"Right. Of course you have," Harry murmured, not budging from his opinion that she was-

"A fraud?" Trelawney interrupted his thoughts. "I dress like this on purpose, Harry Potter. The purpose being the very one you yourself fell for. If everyone sees me as a fraud, then they do not bug me for glimpses into the future".

That was a… okay that actually made sense, Harry could understand how that worked. He still wasn't sure whether he believed her or not, but still, he was open to listening.

"Taye here, however," Trelawney continued, gesturing at the man who still remained half-naked, even as he lounged on one of the Professor's divans. "Is much more powerful than myself. I am merely a witch. Taye, and yourself, however are not".

"What is he then?" Harry demanded.

"What are _we_ then," Taye corrected bluntly, unfolding from the divan and striding over to place his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"You, Harry Potter, are an Oracle".

* * *

**ORACLE**

* * *

_So this is a cross-over with Charmed. One that came to mind when looking through my drawers of DVDs and spotted the sixth season of the show, and upon remembering when Chris first shows up, I couldn't help but remember the line "Oh, check out that Oracle's… ball" that Phoebe Halliwell in response to a shirtless Oracle walking past her._

_And then this happened… I'm not entirely sure how my mind made that leap… but it did._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Charmed._


	67. Storybrooke

"Lower your wand boy, before you take someone's eye out".

Faltering slightly at the sound of the familiar growling voice, Harry almost obeyed it before he remembered who _else_ had that voice, instead concentrating slightly and causing the tip of his wand to glow.

"Maybe that's what I'm going for," Harry bluffed slowly, "Considering how many eyes you've got left".

Dead silence answered him for a moment, Harry beginning to wonder if he'd said the wrong thing before a loud snort filled the air. "Well that's a good thought there, go for where you know your enemy is weakest" Mad-Eye Moody agreed, sounding almost proud as Harry still refused to lower his wand. "Come on then Potter, ask me a question, prove it's really me," the scared man instructed.

"I don't think I know you well enough to tell if you're lying to me Professor," Harry countered, his mind racing.

Silence filled the air once more before Moody snorted again, "Fair 'nough," he agreed, "Lupin. You go instead".

"Professor Lupin?" Harry asked almost instantly his mind darting to the letter safely hidden in his bedside table.

"We're not at Hogwarts now Harry," the werewolf's voice answered, "Just call me Remus".

"Why're we standing about in the dark again?" a third unfamiliar woman's voice asked, before light was illuminating the hall and bedroom, making Harry blink rapidly to clear his eyes.

"My friends called me Moony back in Hogwarts," Professor Lu- Remus said suddenly, a tired smile on his face, "It's me Harry".

Staring for a moment, Harry _almost_ lowered his wand and stepped forward, remembering something with a start and instead deciding to step back as the colourless glow at the end of his wand turned a bright red. "Wormtail," was all he said in response, making a scowl flicker through the werewolf's eyes.

"I had a Grindylow in my office the first time you visited," Remus offered after being on the receiving end of one of Moody's creepy one-eyed glares.

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurted, half-lowering his wand and glancing over the nine witches and wizards (or so he assumed) gathered in his hallway. "And why are you here _nine days_ after I was almost _kissed_ by dementors?" he added coldly, his wandtip flaring darkly.

"Because it took us nine days to beat it into the Headmaster's head that it was for the Greater Good that we get you out of this place, since the Ministry and You-Know-Who obviously know where you live," Remus explained with a snort, "Hardly the 'safest place for you' if the dementors can get to you, after all".

"Now we got an hour to get you back to a secure location," Moody interrupted as Harry opened his mouth to speak, "Get packing. We leave in ten".

"Leave? What do you mean leave?" Harry asked dumbly, to a chorus of groans from the others.

"I mean 'leave', as in we will no longer be here," Moody snapped, both Remus and the purple-haired woman behind the ex-Auror mouthing the words silently. "I saw that," the man added coldly, his electric-blue eye hidden in the back of his head. "Now Potter, nine minutes to pack".

Blinking in shock as Moody pushed past the others and started down the hall to the stairs, Harry saw his chance as the others turned to follow him. "Remus! Do you mind giving me a hand?" he called out quickly, ignoring the way the purple-haired woman raised her hand as he focused his stare on the werewolf, hoping the man would get the hint.

"Of course, Harry," the former Professor agreed slowly, slipping into Harry's room and shutting the door in the woman's face. "Where did you want me to start?"

"Huh? Oh no, I've been packed and ready to go since the dementors attacked," Harry confessed dismissively, "I was just expecting you guys to get here sooner".

Remus paused for a moment before levelling a pointed look at Harry, "What did you want to talk about then?" he asked the raven-haired wizard cautiously, "The locks on the door? The cat-flap? I'm a half-blood Harry, I know what they are even if the others don't".

"Good for you. What am I?" Harry shot back at the werewolf.

"I… what?" Remus said slowly, frowning at Harry who rolled his eyes as he moved over to his bedside table and yanked open the top drawer to pull the letter out.

"What am I Remus?" Harry repeated coldly, turning to glare at the man as he clenched the letter in his fist. "Am I a half-blood? Or am I a muggleborn? I don't know you see, since my magic was _given_ to me by some 'Sorcerer', I'm not entirely sure _what_ I'm classified as," he hissed out.

"What?" was all Remus managed out, the werewolf blinking at Harry as he tilted his head in confusion.

"It says here, in paragraph five," Harry continued as he flattened out the letter and glanced at the words he'd memorised since receiving it. "That my birth parents are not magical, but that my magic was given to me by a powerful sorcerer. I'm not exactly sure what that makes me," he explained calmly, having gone beyond anger long ago.

"You're a wizard, of course," Remus pointed slowly, frowning slightly at him.

"Except I'm not," Harry corrected, "Because, like I said. My wizarding magic? It was _given_ to me, and don't you frown at me, _you knew_. You may not remember the details, but you remember that I'm not really Harry Potter," he spat.

"Of course you are, Lily and James loved you," Remus argued automatically.

"Oh?" Harry interrupted. "That's lovely, nice to know, especially considering how I never even knew _I'm adopted_," he yelled, shoving the letter at Remus when the man reached for it.

"You didn't know," Remus realised, staring at him for a moment in shock before dropping his eyes to begin skimming through the letter.

"You did," Harry countered, feeling his hands curling into fists.

"I did," the man confirmed, glancing up at Harry again. "I thought you know," he said softly, "Back in your third year, when you asked about your parents. You specified that you knew they were Gryffindor Head Boy and Girl, that your mother was a prodigy and that your father was a quidditch player. You called them by name," Remus added, "I thought – assumed – that you didn't _want_ to know about your birth parents, you were always very specific when you asked, always about James and Lily, _never_ about them".

"You thought I knew but didn't care," Harry exhaled, staggering back to collapse onto his bed. "You never said anything-"

"Because _you_ didn't," Remus defended, "I thought you didn't want to talk about it. I remember how Lily reacted when she found out that _she_ was adopted, she refused to even say the word, I just assumed you felt the same way".

"Mum was adopted?" Harry blurted in shock.

Remus blinked a couple of times before peering down at the letter again, clearing his throat before beginning to read a section aloud. "_'After the way Lily reacted when finding out about her adoption, we both agreed that it would be best to just come clean about it, instead of trying to hide it like her parents did'_," he said slowly, looking up at Harry whose mouth had fallen open. "I remember when Lily found out. We were searching through the family records, trying to find an ancestor of hers that might have had magic when she found the adoption papers," the man explained.

"I… I thought that was Dad talking about Mum's reaction when she found out she could adopt me," Harry confessed quietly, mentally kicking himself for missing that.

"Lily grew out of her 'You're not my parents' phase pretty quickly," Remus assured him, "She kicked and screamed for a bit, moved in with me for the last month before Hogwarts started again. Then come the winter holidays she'd cooled down enough that she went home for Christmas and apologised to them all, by the time she came back everything had been mended between her and her parents".

The sound of someone knocking on the door made them both jump, turning to face it as Moody swung it open. "I said 'ten minutes'," the man reminded bluntly, "We're leaving now".

"Actually," Remus corrected, glancing back at Harry before shaking his head. "You go first. Harry and I will wait for a bit before following".

"And when they realise we don't have the lad?" Moody countered.

"Nymphadora can morph into a look-a-like," Remus explained, "Harry's got his father's invisibility cloak, we'll take the longer route as you draw away any ambushers".

"Ambushers?"

"Just in case," Remus mumbled in response to Harry's shocked question, never taking his eyes off Moody.

The ex-Auror stared back with his one good eye, the magical one spinning around wildly before suddenly snapping around to lock onto the letter still in Remus' hand. "Fine," the man finally agreed, nodding curtly as he turned and started out the door again, "Don't take any stupid risks".

"We won't," Remus promised as Moody charged through the house, shouting out orders. "Now we should have some time to talk in private," the tired werewolf promised as he turned back to Harry, moving over to sit on the bed beside him. "What… what do you want to know?"

"How am I a fake wizard?" Harry asked instantly.

"You're not?" Remus said uncertainly, "If anything I'd say you're a muggleborn, but I'm not entirely sure how the sorcerer 'gave' you magic".

"And what how does that even work?" Harry pressed, "My parents weren't magical," he repeated, "How can you just _give_ someone magic?

Remus frowned at him for a moment before shrugging weakly. "I don't know," he confessed, "All I know, all that Lily and James didn't obliviate from Sirius and I was that your birth family couldn't look after you, that they were being hunted," he explained hesitantly, "They went to the sorcerer, who took you to James and Lily, where he gave you magic and gave them you. They came to love you like their own, Harry," Remus finished slowly, "They're your parents in every way that matters, that's it".

"But that's not it, is it?" Harry asked simply, standing up and moving over to his trunk, crouching down to pull out an elegant ornate hand mirror. "You remember something else, don't you?"

"Yeah," Remus admitted slowly, "You smelled like Sirius, like a dog. And the man… the sorcerer was gold – like his skin..." the man continued as he stared down at the floor in pained confusion, "His skin was gold".

"It's not anymore," Harry denied as he turned back to face Remus, "I spoke to him".

The werewolf's head snapped up instantly, eyes flickering amber as the man stood. "You what?" he gasped out, looking panicked, "Harry. I remember him, he was _evil_, it radiated from him. You can't trust him, Lily and James only did once he swore on his magic that he was being totally honest".

Harry shrugged in response, "I can trust him more than I can trust you," he shot back, "You weren't obliviated. Read the letter, it says I should ask _you_ and Sirius for details, that you two are the only two who know everything".

Remus stiffened at his words, a look of guilt and remorse flashing through his eyes. "Harry, I-".

"Don't," he cut in, shaking his head slowly. "You said enough".

"I can explain".

"You don't need to. Gold already has," Harry murmured, watching as Remus' eyes widened. "He was really angry, when he discovered that Voldemort had come back. He prides himself on coming through on his end of the deal, especially when I was given a home as per _his_ side of the arrangement". Remus didn't speak, instead choosing to watch him silently as Harry sighed and looked around his bedroom for the last time. "He owes me, you know," the raven-haired wizard explained slowly, "He made a deal with my birth parents that he would give me to a loving family to raise, and then he made a deal with Mum and Dad that the weapon he gave them in exchange for taking me in would kill Voldemort. Yet I grew up here, and Voldemort survived".

"Harry".

The boy in question just sighed again, shaking his head slowly. "I was going to give you all another chance," he confessed, "But you lied to me about knowing, and something tells me that not even _you_ know what happened".

"I- What happened?" Remus asked instantly, "And… and I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't know".

"Dumbledore hasn't told you?" Harry questioned in response, "Gold had given Mum and Dad a weapon that didn't work, he took responsibility for that and killed Voldemort himself. The Dark Lord has been dead for nine days, and you didn't even know?"

Ignoring the way Remus paled, Harry just let out a slow chuckle, glancing up at the man as he gestured at him with the mirror in his hands. "This is the weapon, you know," he explained, "The weapon that could kill Voldemort. It was supposed to reflect the killing curse back at him, but for some reason he hadn't died properly. Gold said something about Tom splitting his soul, but I wasn't really listening, not after Gold pulled a shard of his soul from up here," he clarified as he tapped his already fading scar. "But this mirror, it can do more than just reflect the killing curse. It's my way home, a portkey that'll take me to meet my birth parents".

"Harry. No," Remus interrupted, "You've got a family here".

"Family who leave me locked up all summer without even caring when I'm attacked by dementors?" Harry countered with a sneer worthy of Snape, "Yeah. I'm sure I should be so pleased to have _two_ sets of the Dursleys. If things were different, if James and Lily had been alive to raise me then maybe I would stay, but they're not. Good bye Remus".

As the werewolf lunged to his feet and dove at Harry, the boy vanished into a tornado of dark red smoke with a single word.

"Storybrooke".

* * *

**STORYBROOKE**

* * *

_I have no excuses nor explanations for this chapter. I wanted to do it after reading an awesome HP/OuaT crossover and I did it._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Once Upon a Time. (Seriously? What is it with BBC and making awesome TV shows?)_


	68. Amber

"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, oblivious to Harry's growing horror. "And while we're on the subject," the man continued, jabbing at fat finger at Harry threateningly, "We need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her".

Dudley sniggered, Harry glanced over to see the obese boy had finally turned his attention away from the television. Obviously he preferred watching Harry get bullied to watching his precious TV, strange considering he normally beat up anyone who targeted 'his' chewtoy back at primary school.

"Firstly. You'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge," Vernon growled.

"As long as she does when she's talking to me," Harry countered bitterly. He _hated_ Marge with a passion, even more than he hated Malfoy or Snape. He'd force himself to be polite only if she did the same, he wasn't going to count on it though. Harry was _not_ going to behave for that vile bitch, and he was _not_ going to play along with whatever story or rules his Uncle cooked up to suit her.

"Secondly," Vernon continued, acting like he hadn't heard Harry's reply. "As Marge doesn't know about your abnormality, I don't want any – _any_ – funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"

"If she sets her dog on me again then I'll set her on fire," Harry dead-panned, completely serious as he stared at his Uncle. "And when the Aurors show up to see why I'm casting magic, I'll show them my cupboard instead. Show them what's _really_ abnormal around here".

Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to lunge across the room and kill throttle Harry, only the way the raven-haired wizard's had lifted up his hoodie to show the wand tucked in the waistband on his jeans stopping the overweight man.

"And thirdly," Vernon forced out, a vein in the man's forehead pulsing as his eyes narrowed to slits in his purple face. "We've told Marge you attend St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys".

Harry just stared at his Uncle for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope," he refused bluntly, turning on his heel and strolling out of the room.

"GET BACK IN HERE!"

Drawing his wand as he spun back to his charging Uncle, Harry watched as the man whimpered and quickly stumbled back. "I do _not_ attend St. Whatsits. I attend Hogwarts, and I don't care if that doesn't suit your little story, _Uncle_, but that's how it's gonna be," he growled, whatever good manner he had thrown out the window the moment his 'Aunt' got involved. "_Shut up_," he snarled as Vernon opened his mouth to argue, the man's face a dark red in anger. "I attend Hogwarts, a private school located up in the Scottish highlands. The same school my parents went to before they were _murdered_, end of story".

"Is there a problem with that?" Harry asked calmly, smiling innocently as he twirled his wand around in his fingers, both Vernon's and Dudley's eyes locked on it as it sparked threateningly. "I didn't think-" he was cut off as something shattered, making him whip around to stare at the now broken kitchen window.

"Ho- How _dare_ you!" Vernon began.

"It wasn't me," Harry argued, glaring in his Uncle's direction as he edged towards the broken window cautiously.

He'd felt something when the window broke. It felt like magic, but different, and he knew for certain that it hadn't come from him.

"Don't feed me that load of crock!" Vernon yelled angrily.

"Do you want me to curse you?" Harry demanded, turning his wand on the trembling man and making him shrink back, "I could test which fire spell I know will burn you the slowest". When the man just stared at the glowing tip of Harry's wand in fear, the dark-haired boy turned back to the windows and hesitantly moved over to the door, slowly reaching out to twist the door handle and push it open.

"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL IS THAT?"

"Ow," Harry drawled, raising his free hand to rub at his ears as he followed the progress of the tiny animal into the kitchen. "And that, my oh so intelligent Uncle, is a fox".

Sarcasm aside, Harry didn't know what else he could call the creature before him. It was a fox, plain and simple. Well, maybe not simple, it was too beautiful to be simple. It's fur was an elegant burnt red-amber colour, with black 'socks' on it and a cap on its tail of the same colour. The fox couldn't be that old either, it looked like it was only out of teenager-dom, sleek yet a little ungainly.

Watching as the fox jumped onto a chair and then up onto the kitchen table to help himself to the toast Harry had abandoned ages ago, he couldn't help but smirk as Vernon looked at the animal with the same look of disgust and caution that he and his wife constantly used on Harry. "Get that- that _thing_ out of my house," the large man squeaked fearfully.

"Why?" Harry asked bluntly, "You do it. It's not magical-" he paused as both Dursleys flinched at the word "-and it's barely the size of your empty head".

He wasn't being cruel was he? It was only the Dursleys that he was acting this way to, when Mrs Figg from down the street had popped by to ask to borrow some hedge clippers (to which Petunia had refused) Harry had been perfectly well-mannered with her. As far as he was concerned, he was allowed to torment his relatives after all the shit they put him through, and it wasn't even like he was using magic on them – instead only acting like the rebellious teenager that he now was.

As Uncle Vernon gathered up the courage and moved towards the fox, pudgy hands extended as far away from his body as he could manage, Harry was proven completely wrong. Lips curling back to reveal sharp teeth, the now fire-eyed fox let out an angry snarl as its tail raised and then split into _three separate tails_. His Uncle letting out a pig-like squeal as he threw himself backwards, Harry could only watch as the now demonic-looking visage of the fox let out an angry 'yip' that lifted Vernon up into the air, hurling him through the wall and into the living room. The black glow that surrounded the fox's writhing tails faded as they reformed into a singular limb, the fox quickly picking up remains of Harry's toast before jumping off the table and darting towards the horrified wizard, where it promptly scaled his leg and wormed its way into the large pocket of his hoodie – as if it _hadn't_ just kicked the shit out of his Uncle.

* * *

Come the 1st of September, Harry was on the Hogwarts Express waiting for his friends, staring silently at the utterly normal cardboard box sitting on the seat opposite him.

After what felt like years of waiting, he finally heard Hermione's voice calling from outside his compartment, only then looking away from the box to see his best female friend beaming at him as she struggled with something in her arms. When the door was finally opened as she entered, leading a scowling Ron in, Harry's face dropped upon seeing the furry beast in her arms.

"See?" Ron demanded rudely as he stomped into the compartment, "Even Harry hates that beast".

"Harry!" Hermione scolded instantly, "I don't know what lies Ronald has been telling you, but Crookshanks has been nothing but a darling. Ron just can't get past his prejudice towards cats".

"That's a cat?" Harry blurted as Hermione sat beside him, leaving Ron to levitate both their trunks onto the luggage rack above them.

"Yes," Hermione growled warningly, Harry's stomach sinking even further as 'Crookshanks' pulled his furry head away from Hermione's chest and blinked at him lazily. "And he's been a perfectly well-behaved one," she added with a narrow-eyed glare to both boys, "I've been putting up with Ronald's lies since he showed up at the Leaky Cauldron, I will _not_ let you slander Crookshanks either".

"I wasn't," Harry assured her quickly, casting a nervous glance at the still silent box. "I just didn't know what it _was_, I only saw red fur".

He'd thought that Hermione had also been 'kidnapped' by something like Harry's unwanted companion, the multi-tailed fox curled up and hopefully sleeping in a mess of Harry's shirts within the box.

"Good," Hermione said simply, nuzzling Crookshanks happily as she set the loudly purring cat down in her lap. "Mum and Dad bought him for me in Diagon Alley, he's part kneazle, so he's a very smart kitty isn't he?" she cooed. "Apparently he'd been there for a while, I can't imagine why, he's so gorgeous isn't he Harry?"

If Harry had been stupid (or Ron) he'd have been honest with Hermione and told her that her cat looked like he'd ran into a brick wall and full speed. Thankfully for him however, Harry _wasn't_, and thus he knew better than to say anything other than "Yeah he is, he looks really fluffy," to Hermione, who beamed at him in response and scratched Crookshanks' chin, cooing all the while like a proud mother.

"You can pet him if you want," Hermione offered, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you were gentle about it".

"Uh, nah, I think I'll wait until we get to Hogwarts," Harry denied quickly, eyes flicking to the box again. "If Hedwig learns I've been touching other animals without her permission she'll kill me," he explained hastily to a suspicious Hermione.

"Indeed," the girl agreed slowly, eyes narrowed at him, "She flew ahead to Hogwarts by the way, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea of remaining in her cage for the entire trip".

"Of course not, Hedwig _hates_ that cage," Harry confirmed, trying to keep his voice calm and his face casual. "I only sent her to yours because I hadn't heard from Ron _all summer_ and my Aunt Marge was coming over. She's allergic to birds," he lied as he and Hermione both looked over at Ron who'd completely missed Harry's loud hint.

"That's unfortunate," Hermione agreed with a sniff, making Harry wince as he realised that he hadn't managed to fool his friend. "It's polite to _ask_ before helping yourself to other's things by the way Ronald".

Glancing over at Ron curiously, Harry didn't have time to stop himself as his wand appeared in his hands and a stinging hex struck the red-haired boy in the face. "Don't touch that box," he ordered as he quickly stood and shoved Ron away from it, pushing the disturbed lid back down after a peek at the sleeping fox inside it.

"What the bloody hell mate?" Ron demanded angrily, a hand clamped over the reddening skin on his face.

"Just- Just don't touch the box," Harry instructed, refusing to feel guilt over the stinging hex when the last person who'd disturbed the fox had ended up on fire. (On the plus side, Aunt Marge would never be returning to #4 Privet Drive). "Okay?" he stressed, looking between his friends, "_Don't, touch, the box_".

"Harry," Hermione began slowly, suspicion clear on her face, "What's in the box".

"No idea, it wasn't in any of my school books" Harry confessed, slowly returning to his seat once he was sure the fox wasn't stirring, "That's why it's here. I wanted to bring it for Hagrid to look at".

"But what's in it?" Hermione repeated, a confused frown on her face.

"Yeah! Come on mate, I just wanted a look," Ron insisted, yelping and jumping back as Harry hexed him the moment he started to reach for the box.

"And I said 'no'," Harry snapped, fixing Ron with the most serious look he could manage. "Trust me, neither of you want to know".

"Will you tell us _after_ Hagrid's looked at it?" Hermione questioned slowly, "And it's not dangerous, is it?"

"Extremely," Harry admitted bluntly, Ron paling as he looked between his hand and the box nervously.

"But what does it look like?" Hermione asked quickly, "It's obviously some sort of magical creature or you wouldn't want Hagrid to look at it right?"

"It's… it's a fox," Harry mumbled hesitantly.

"A fox? You _tit_!" Ron exclaimed, "I almost soiled my robes!"

"Did you just call me a tit?" Harry blurted in confusion.

"It's a fox!" Ron continued, "What's it gonna do? Nibble my ankles? We get tonnes of them around the Burrow," the red-haired boy dismissed as he basically dove at the box and tore the lid open. "See!" he said smugly as the fox jumped out, "It's not even an adult," Ron snorted, gently lifting it up and inspecting it, "He's practically a baby".

The 'baby' didn't seem to agree however, as it's amber eyes once again were engulfed in fire, and it's tails split as a dark snarl echoed through the compartment.

Time seemed to slow as Ron blinked at the fox in shock, a high-pitched scream echoing through the compartment as he hurled it away from him and back into the box it had come from… which burst into flames, since Harry's life wasn't complete until the ghost-like demon-fox haunting him learnt it could set itself on fire and incinerate a cardboard box in seconds.

The moment Ron's head hit the ground, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, the fox was normal again, its tails blending into one as it carefully licked down the fur that Ron had displaced.

"Wow," Hermione exhaled slowly, Harry twitching as the fox froze and glanced up at her.

As the fox jumped across the seats to sniff at Crookshanks, Harry could only sigh as it deemed the cat worthy of an ear-lick before climbing up onto Harry's shoulders where it settled down with a happy rumble.

"You have no idea".

* * *

**AMBER**

* * *

_Inspired by Anubis of the Highway Thieves' _It Followed Me Home _challenge._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	69. Darkness

At five o'clock on the dot, Dolores Umbridge's wand began to vibrate sharply, making her pause in the mixing of her tea.

Slowly setting the spoon down on the saucer, Dolores reached out to brush her fingers across the surface of her wand, calming it down as a small smile tugged at her lips. Returning her wand to her sleeve, she picked up her spoon and finished stirring her tea, keeping her ears primed for the sound of a knocking at her office door.

Moving back to her desk, Dolores had just sat down when the sound of a fist slamming against her door made her jump slightly, her tea sloshing out of the cup. Biting back a scowl, she quickly vanished her spilt drink and cleaned her desk with a second flick of her wand.

Turning her attention to the door, Dolores called out a simple "Come in," knowing that it was Potter.

He was looking around the moment he entered her office, his head moving on a swivel as he took everything in, the look of disgust flashing across his face saying everything. After casting her family's ornamental feline plates a fond look, Dolores returned her attention to the troublemaker before her. "Good evening, Mr Potter," she greeted coldly, not liking the glimmer of anger in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Potter ground out, clearly only saying it because he had no other choice.

"Sit down, Mr Potter," Dolores instructed, nodding with her head towards a small table, covered in lace with a chair sitting beside it. "And I'll ask that you not be late again," she added with a smirk, "I think doubling your detention time for tonight will encourage you to be on time tomorrow will it not?"

Perhaps he would be less disrespectful next time. It was extremely rude of him to be late when she was taking time out of her day to help him understand the errors of his ways. Watching as Potter's jaw clenched angrily, Dolores didn't speak as the boy visibly pushed down his anger and stiffly slid his bag off his shoulder, dropping it loudly to the floor as he threw himself into the chair petulantly. Obviously, it would take a lot more than just a few detentions to break through his delusions, his behaviour and attitude were absolutely detestable.

"There we go, Mr Potter," she said calmly, "We're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you're going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she added as the boy reached for his bag, "You're going to be using a very special one of mine". Pulling a long, thin black quill from the top desk of her drawer, Dolores rose to her feet, moving around the desk to place the blood quill in front of Potter. "There will be no need to talk, Mr Potter," she added warningly, not wanting to have to deal with his impudent claims while writing up her reports.

Returning to her desk, Dolores barely had time to sit down before Potter was rudely saying, "You didn't say what I'm supposed to write? And you didn't give me any ink".

Taking a moment to calm down the flicker of annoyance in her chest, Dolores' hands flexed towards her teacup, absently wishing for something stronger. "I _did_ say there will be no need to talk, did I not Mr Potter?" she asked coldly, "Now write, 'I must not tell lies', until the message sinks in".

Picking up her teacup, Dolores took a slow sip as she watched Potter snatching up the quill and press it against the parchment before him. She would deal with him for as long as she had to, but until it sunk into Potter's head (and his hand) that they would not accept his lies, she wouldn't be free of him.

Potter let out a hiss of pain suddenly, drawing her attention back to him as he dropped the quill and clutched at the back of his hand. From her position at her desk, Dolores could just see the movement on Potter's hand as the skin healed over, a smug feeling washing over her as she caught the realization on his face. Snapping her eyes back to her teacup as she saw Potter's head rising, she pretended to not have noticed him, hiding her smirk as she took another sip of her tea.

After counting five seconds of Potter staring at her, Dolores slowly lowered her teacup and smiled up at him widely. "Yes? Mr Potter?" she asked sweetly, "Is there a problem?"

The boy didn't respond straight away, dropping his head down to the parchment before him, his unmarked hand clenching tightly around her quill. "No, Professor," he ground out rudely.

"Then please, continue your detention," Dolores pressed. As Potter nodded stiffly, she smiled at him and picked her tea up again, taking a small sip as she watched the boy begin to cut into his hand once more. Setting her cup down, she pulled some of her class' homework towards her, a smirk flashing across her face as she realised that this was Potter's year's class. Honestly looking forward to reading Potter's essay on dark creatures, she shuffled through them all until she found one labelled with the boy's disgusting handwriting, hoping to find some sort of insight into the boy's delusions.

But alas, fate seemed dedicated to making her life hell – something that only strengthened her resolve, since doing the right thing was never easy. As she began to read his essay, Potter let out a loud sneeze. Shivering as goosebumps spread across her skin, Dolores paused and glanced up at the boy as he wiped his nose on his sleeve and refocused his attention on his detention. Looking back down at the essay, she twitched as her hand tingled, a pained noise escaping her lips as a sharp burning sensation arced across the back of her hand. As she watched, her mouth falling open in shock, the skin parted ways as the words _"__I must not fuck with Harry Potter"_ were carved into her flesh.

Head snapping up to stare at Potter, Dolores watched in horror as the raven-haired boy continued to write on the parchment even as emerald eyes watched up at her through his fringe. His hand snapped up as she tried to stand, forcing a whimper from her throat as she felt magic pressing down on her shoulders, pinning her down in her chair as Potter started humming cheerfully under his breath.

"_I must not fuck with Harry Potter"_

"_I must not fuck with Harry Potter"_

"_I must not fuck with Harry Potter"_

"_I must not fuck with Harry Potter"_

"Tell me Professor," Potter began slowly, Dolores trying hard to see through the pain and the tears in her eyes, "Do you think the message is sinking in? I'm not entirely it has yet, but I'm not an expert".

The words still cutting into her hand, Potter stood, the quill moving on its own accord across the parchment. "I'm tempted to just let it keep going," he admitted, walking over to sit on the corner of her desk, picking up a paperweight and inspecting it. "To let your blood keep flowing until there's none left to write with. Something tells me that'd just be messy though, and as much as I love blood, I'm not a huge fan of it staining the carpet. But either way, I'm pretty sure I want to kill you," he confessed bluntly before frowning down at the paperweight in his hands. "Can I have this?" he added hopefully, "It's really nice and I-" he paused and cocked his head, "You know, I'm just gonna take this," he decided as he slipped it into his pocket.

"_Harry!_"

Dolores' eyes snapped back to the door as it opened and closed on its own, Potter's mudblood friend appearing as she pulled off what looked like an invisibility cloak. "What do you think you're doing?" the bushy-haired girl yelled, Dolores feeling hope filling her as the girl scowled at the guilty looking boy, "The door was _unlocked_! Anyone could have just walked in here!" she added, making the fledgling hope crash.

"I knew you were outside with the Map," Potter said dismissively, as the Mudblood drew her wand and started casting spells at the door, locking it tightly before transfiguring it to look like the wall it was part of. "You would have let me know if anyone was coming".

"Maybe so, but that doesn't excuse bad planning," the Mudblood exclaimed with a scowl as she turned back to face them.

"Sorry you have to see this," Potter apologized to Dolores, shifting to make himself more comfortable as the Mudblood moved over to inspect the blood quill. "I'm kind of new to this whole 'Dark Lord' thing," he explained with a sheepish grin, a silent scream getting lodged in her throat as the blood quill began cutting deeper and deeper into her hand at the Mudblood's prodding, "There's a surprising lack of 'How to' books on becoming an evil entity".

"Harry," the Mudblood said warningly.

"What?" Potter blurted, "It's not like she's going to remember this when we're done with her!"

"You've carved _'I must not fuck with Harry Potter'_ into the back of her hand," the Mudblood pointed out, pulling the blood quill away from the paper, granting Dolores a brief respite from the pain still burning at her hand. "And as nice of a touch as I think that was, I also think she'll remember that".

Dolores watched as Potter blinked at his friend slowly, glancing down at her blood-covered hand with a grimace. "Oh yeah," the boy murmured slowly, frowning slightly as he drew his wand and waved it at her, vanishing all the blood on the table without a word. "We can't heal that can we?" Potter asked hesitantly, leaning forward to inspect the back of her hand curiously.

"Minor scarring we could heal," the Mudblood agreed, "You'll heal easily. _That_ however? That's for life".

Potter and the Mudblood stared at each other silently for a moment, communicating entirely without words. "We're not entirely sure what we're doing," Potter said suddenly, not looking away from his friend as he spoke, "We know what we want, but we don't know how to get there. I'm not entirely sure how we get on this path either," he confessed as he cocked his head to the side, glancing over at the heavily curtained window, "I just remember waking up one day, wanting to _crucio_ the shit out of the birds singing outside my dorm window".

"I know what happened," the Mudblood countered with a sniff, "We both know that these powers of yours are dark, you may not want to admit it, but we both know its true. When you discovered them last year they started corrupting you. And then you found that way to imbue both Ron and I with them, and they started twisting us as well".

"And now we're dark?" Potter questioned.

"And now we're dark," the Mudblood agreed simply.

"Huh," Potter said after a moment of silence, "Good to know. That doesn't tell me what we're going to do with _her_, but it's good to know".

"Well. I thought it was obvious," the Mudblood pointed out slowly, Potter cocking his head at her curiously. "I _had_ wanted to put her under the Imperius, but those scars would raise suspicion".

"Good point," Potter agreed thoughtfully, "Oh well," he declared before raising his hand and snapping his fingers, a ball of crackling fire appearing above his hand. "Now hold still," he ordered, turning to face Dolores as the fire snaked and writhed through the air, "I've never done this to a person before".

And the fire consumed her.

* * *

**Darkness**

* * *

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	70. The Squib-Who-Lived

Albus Dumbledore stood tall.

Watching over the students of the three major magical schools of Europe, he allowed a small smile of pride to flit across his face, as he saw the way that they were interacting with each other while waiting for the Goblet of Fire to choose the contestants.

Turning to glance at the Goblet, his smile fell.

He hadn't wanted the thing anywhere near his school, its past of death and destruction still lingering around it. He'd outright threatened the Minister of Magic over it too, pushing his boundaries a little too far in his attempts to keep the Triwizard Tournament buried deep where it belonged. The Minister however, had the final say, despite all of Albus' political power – and thus the Tournament was at Hogwarts, the school being a couple of million galleons richer as part of Cornelius' bribes.

Albus only had the choice to decline the money meant to 'soothe things over' and keep kicking up a fuss, or to accept the money and do what he could to keep the death toll at zero while setting an age limit even the Minister could agree with. Either way, Hogwarts would have been hosting the Tournament, with or without his permission.

Still… it was good to see the international cooperation going on.

The crackling of fire pulled Albus' attention back to the Goblet, the blue-white flames within it rising up and flaring brightly. As all the students went silent automatically, everyone in the Great Hall staring at it eagerly, Albus moved forward to stand before it, drawing everyone's eyes to him instead.

"It seems the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he began slowly, his voice reaching every corner of the deathly quiet hall. "I estimate it will take only a minute to decide. Now, I would ask that when the Champion's names are called, that they would stand and move to the front of the Hall before moving into the chamber through _that_ door," he requested, gesturing towards the door to the Trophy Room as it lit up with a bright glow to help identify it.

Drawing his wand, Albus extinguished all lights in the Great Hall, leaving only the Goblet of Fire's blue-white light to illuminate the large room. Almost as if it were waiting for that to happen, the Goblet's flames turned blood-red (something Albus thought fitting for the amount of deaths it had brought about) and it sparked angrily, a tongue of fire exploding from its mouth as it spat out a charred piece of parchment to the awed gasps of students and staff alike.

Catching the first name, Albus glanced at it to identify the school, before clearing his throat and saying "The Champion for Durmstrang is… Viktor Krum!"

A wave of applause and screams rolled through the Hall, Albus blinking a few times to clear his ringing ears as a large burly student stood and rudely stomped his way past him and into the Trophy Room. He remembered the name, he thought, some kind of Quidditch player. Igor Karkaroff had insisted on being allowed to bring several Bulgarian Hit-Wizards with them to act as bodyguards for the boy. Albus had refused, not only was dark magic legal among the Bulgarian military, but it was expected of them, and he wouldn't allow that in his school.

Karkaroff was also a Death Eater, and Albus had no issues admitting he was petty.

Slipping the named parchment into his pocket for later, Albus turned to the Goblet once more, watching the blue fire expectantly as the Hall went quiet again. Time passed slowly as they waited for the Goblet to turn red again, Albus beginning to wonder (hope) that the Goblet had stopped working when it did just that, hurling a second name from its depths in a flash of flame.

"The Beauxbatons Champion," he declared upon catching and reading the parchment, "Is Ms Fleur Delacour!"

Oh… he mused as he watched one Beauxbatons student hurling her hat across the room with a snarl… that was unnecessary. Flicking his wand in the direction the hat went, Albus silently charmed it to fly back across the room where he silently stuck it to the girl's head, finally turning his attention to the beautiful blonde strutting up the Hall to the cheers and wolf whistles of the other students. She looked tough, he could see it in her eyes as she nodded to him as she passed, this one was more than a pretty face.

Albus admittedly like the French more than the Bulgarians. The French had strict anti-dark laws, and Madame Maxime's only request was for French foods to be served for the students to enjoy at meal-times.

When Ms Delacour vanished into the Trophy Room and the Hall fell silent in expectation of the third Champion's selection, Albus felt his stomach begin twisting painfully. Which of his students would be chosen? Which of his students would he be forced to watch be incinerated by a dragon? Which one would drown in a lake? Or be devoured by whatever creatures the Ministry were importing for the final task? If he could, Albus would have put only his own name in the Goblet, much rather he be killed by the Tournament than one of his students.

He'd lived his life, they'd barely started theirs.

As the Goblet of Fire flared up for the final time, Albus caught the smoking parchment it released, holding it tightly in his hand for a moment before building up the courage to unfold it to reveal the name.

Dammit… such a bright boy…

"The Hogwarts Champion," he called, forcing the regret from his voice as his eyes instantly started searching for the young man, "Is Cedric Diggory".

Hufflepuff table exploded at the words, the entire House seemingly ecstatic that one of their own had been chosen, as the broadly grinning boy stood and headed off towards the Trophy Room. He was so confident, so brave. And he had such a bright future ahead of him, if his father was to be believed. Albus could only hope he'd live to see it.

Trying to force the depressing thoughts from his mind for now, Albus straightened his back and delivered his best grandfatherly smile upon the boy as he passed him, waiting until Cedric had long since left the Hall before clearing his throat to silence the students.

"Excellent!" he shouted, making the few stragglers fall mute as he moved to stand before the Goblet once more, "We now have our Champions. I'm sure I can count on you all, including our remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to give all our champions all the support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you give them the strength they need to-"

Albus cut off instantly as the room's lighting changed sharply, the blue illumination radiating from behind him turning dark red once more. Slowly turning to face the Goblet of Fire, he mentally promised to curse Cornelius so badly his grandchildren would feel it, as the watched the _fourth_ name being pushed out of the Goblet's mouth by an arm of fire.

The name falling into his outstretched hand, Albus refused to move, his eyes flicking to the Head Table to see the looks of shock and confusion upon everyone's faces. What was happening? Was the Goblet broken? Had the enchantment decayed over the time it'd been sealed away? Feeling everyone's eyes burning into him, Albus tried to push down his rising nerves, and slowly reached out to unfold the parchment, staring at the name written there in rapidly growing horror.

He didn't understand… how could a _fourth_ name be pulled from the Goblet? And more specifically, how could _this_ name be chosen? Pausing to watch the Goblet again, feeling everyone still staring and expecting him to read the name out, Albus ignored the Minister of Magic as he approached in favour of waiting to see if the Goblet would spit out a fifth name.

"Albus? Albus?"

Curling his fingers around the parchment, he scowled at the nervously sweating Minister, already feeling the magic of the contract he'd signed in regards to the Tournament trying to push him into acting. Not looking away from the Minister, the parchment scrunching up in his hand, Albus cleared his throat, forced by the magic of the Tournament to announce the fourth Champion to the confused schools.

"Harry Potter".

The Minister blinking dumbly at him, Albus bowed his head slightly as whispering broke out among the English students, the other two schools sure to pick up the gist of it soon enough. "Are you happy now, Cornelius?" he asked slowly, feeling his magic building up in his eyes as he glared up at the idiot man. "You've sentenced a fourteen year old boy to die".

"But-but that's _impossible_!" Cornelius argued as the other two Headmasters joined them.

"What is the meaning of this Dumbledore!" Karkaroff exclaimed, looking around at the gathered students with a smug look, as if pleased to be talking about this in front of everyone. "I do not recall anyone telling me that Hogwarts gets _two_ Champions, or is this more of your infamous 'English Justice' that we are seeing here?"

"I would hardly call this justice, Igor," Albus corrected, his wand flicking subtly in a charm to prevent the gossiping students from listening in. "Nor would I claim Hogwarts has two Champions. Mr Potter is not a student here".

"Of course he's bloody well not!" Cornelius exclaimed indignantly, "Hogwarts is no place for a _squib_!"

"'Ow is he to compete then?" Madame Maxime questioned slowly, glaring at the Minister for his comment, "Zis is a tournament of _magic_, is it not?"

Albus' mouth opened to assure them that Harry Potter would _not_ be competing, but the man himself was cut off as the Goblet flared up once more, fear filling him as everyone went quiet to watch the blue-white flames surging around the Goblet angrily. Dropping the anti-eavesdropping spell absently, Albus and the other officials were forced away from the Goblet as it reacted to something unknown, tongues of fire extending from within it to snake around as if searching for something – likely Harry Potter.

And then it was over, the blue flames were being pulled back into the Goblet as it went quiet, Albus just beginning to hope that it would retract Harry Potter's name when a pulse of magic exploded from it, and a spiral of blue-gold balls of light descended from the ceiling and coalesced into the form of a young raven-haired boy standing frozen with a muggle backpack thrown over his shoulder and a book tucked under one arm.

Silence reigned throughout the Great Hall, as everyone stared at the confused Harry Potter, and the confused Harry Potter stared back.

"This isn't my History class".

* * *

**THE SQUIB-WHO-LIVED**

* * *

_Now. While this idea is labelled 'The Squib-Who-Lived', it doesn't mean Harry's actually a squib... except it kind of does. Harry doesn't have WIZARDING magic, and instead has some other form of magic/magical ability, I don't know what the other magic/magical ability is yet though, so use your imagination._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	71. Deadline

Harry Potter had had strange dreams before.

Ones about flying motorbikes, ones where his Professor's turban came alive and tried to kill him, ones where Hermione was tap-dancing in a giant teacup-styled goblet of fire…

And he'd also had more than his fair share of nightmares…

His mother's death, the dementors kissing Sirius, Cedric's death, Voldemort's return…

But none of those dreams resembled anything like this. The closest Harry could match to his current dream, was the ones he'd been having about that mysterious hallway with the door he could never open at the end.

But this dream… this dream was perhaps the strangest one he'd had in his entire life.

He was standing on top of an enormous muggle skyscraper, black clouds dominating the skies above him while a thick greyish fog covered the floor he stood frozen upon. He could, from where he was standing, see a huge sprawling city spreading out for miles before a wall of the same mist cut it off suddenly. Harry also wasn't cold, even though he could feel the wind tearing at his hair and bedclothes, but he felt nothing but a comforting warmth that reminded him of the hugs Sirius was fond of ambushing him with.

He wasn't alone, either. Standing at the edge of the rooftop, fingers curled around a link in the chain fence surrounding them all, stood a tall man with messy dark hair and a long coat that seemed unaffected by the howling winds. He was familiar too, like someone Harry had known a long time ago, even only a side-view of his face sparking some lost long memory of childish giggles and plush toys.

After testing his legs again only to feel them frozen in place, Harry turned his attention on the man at the fence just in time to hear him beginning to speak.

"He knows how important it is, not just to me, but to Olympus".

Blinking in confusion and preparing himself for what seemed likely to be a long dream, Harry watched as the man shook his head.

Okay, so _what_ is so important then? And what was Olympus? Aside from the mythical home of the Greek gods of course, even Harry could remember that from muggle primary school.

"He _knows_ that it holds the key to the safety of us all," the man continued muttering darkly under his breath. "So why would he steal it?"

The man stiffened slightly, turning his head for a moment before letting out a growl as he turned back to face the city, Harry fearing that the man knew he was there for a split second before a door behind him opened.

They were brothers, that much was clear to Harry as a second man stepped out of the door and kicked it shut behind him, their faces were similar and their hair almost identical – and the sheer _power_ that both men radiated was enough to make Harry wish he could move so he could go hide in a corner. That was where the similarities ended however, where the first man stood tall and broad in his suit, the second was wearing a jacket and hoodie and was slouching down the ramp to the viewing area.

It was when the second man joined the first, and they exchanged greetings, that Harry realised he was in over his head.

"Zeus".

"Poseidon".

Of course Harry would find himself in the middle of a confrontation between Olympian gods, who apparently _did_ actually exist. It didn't matter that he didn't know _how_ he was dreaming of this, but something told him that it was real, that the two gods staring each other down just feet in front of him was really happening.

"What do you see?" the man identified as 'Zeus' asked, breaking Harry from his internal panic over their very existence.

'Poseidon' glanced around for a moment before voicing the very thought that Harry had at the god's question. "Thunderclouds".

Made sense, if this man was really the God of Thunder.

"But no lightning," Zeus countered, "Stolen".

Well at least Harry now knew what 'He' had stolen that was of such importance.

Zeus stared Poseidon down before turning and striding away from the building's edge, Poseidon's voice following him. "You think I took it?" the Sea God asked as he crossed the rooftop after his brother, "Omnipotence has blinded you, brother. We are forbidden from stealing each other's powers".

The two gods came to a halt as Zeus whirled on his brother. "But our _children_ aren't," the God of the Sky growled out.

"You're accusing my son?" Poseidon rasped out, sounding both hurt, defensive, and furious at the same time. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby. He doesn't know me, or even know who he is _because of you_!"

"Oh be silent, _brother_," Zeus spat in disgust, "You're not the only one kept from their son, remember?"

"That doesn't seem to have kept you," Poseidon snarled, stepping to the side and turning to stare at where Harry was standing, his feet still binding him in place. "God of Hypocrisy!"

"My son is here to bear witness," Zeus defended, stormy grey-blue eyes flicking past Poseidon to meet Harry's emerald green ones, causing his stomach to clench painfully. "If your son if the thief, then I will send him to the depths of Tartarus myself".

"If you touch my son," Poseidon began angrily.

"I won't have to if yours were to return my Bolt," Zeus interrupted, pushing away the approaching God of the Sea and holding him back with a raised hand. "He must return the bolt to me. In fourteen days, by midnight on the summer solstice," he declared bluntly, "Or there _will_ be war".

"You leave Perseus out of this," Poseidon growled, his eyes beginning to glow a violent sea-green. "He has done _nothing_!"

"Perhaps not," Zeus agreed calmly, "But how am I to trust _you_?"

Poseidon seemed to falter for a moment, hand reaching out to gently fist in Zeus' coat. "Because you can," he explained finally, "You know, just as well I as, what will happen if the Bolt is not returned. You cannot truly believe that I would be willing to do that?"

"Why not?" Zeus countered, raising a bushy eyebrow at Poseidon as he raised a hand and brushed aside his brother's. "You've a son to sacrifice in your steed".

"Would you truly believe that I would be willing to do _that_ either?" Poseidon countered, "No more, I imagine, than you would be willing to do to him?" he justified as he hiked his thumb in Harry's direction – who was currently trying to stop himself from having a panic attack.

Zeus and Poseidon stood there staring at each other for a moment, completely unaware to how Harry's mind had jammed back when Poseidon called him Zeus' son. After what felt like hours of Harry thinking _'What? What? What? What?'_ and the two gods staring at each other, Zeus let out an indescribable noise as he pushed away from Poseidon and strode towards the fence again.

"I am willing to… compromise," Zeus forced out, not sounding happy about the idea. "Perseus has fourteen days to return the Bolt to me," he announced, raising a hand as Poseidon stepped forward angrily, "And he shall have Hadrian, to guide and aid him in this Quest. My son will be able to sense my power within the Bolt, and lead Perseus towards it".

"And should Perseus – who does _not_ have your Bolt – fail to return it to you?" Poseidon growled.

"Then Hadrian shall cast him into the depths of Tartarus," Zeus said calmly, "And there will be war".

"I hardly think that's fair, for the God of Honour," Poseidon said stiffly.

"I hardly think sending your son to steal my Bolt, is honourable," Zeus argued.

"Perseus did _not_ steal it!" Poseidon roared angrily, Zeus looked completely uncaring as he glanced down at his fingernails and rubbed them on his shirt.

"Then, I'm sure Perseus can prove it," Zeus declared simply, smirking at his brother before turning on his heel and stalking across the rooftop to a door which exploded to let him through, reforming behind him without hesitation.

As silence fell on the rooftop, Harry suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was alone up here with Poseidon – the god who had every reason to hate him right now.

"Should you harm," Poseidon began the moment that thought passed through Harry's head, "A _single_ hair on my son's head," the god threatened, still looking after Zeus and not even glancing at Harry. "Then I remove yours".

As Poseidon slowly turned his head to glare at Harry, the black-haired boy could only swallow nervously as the god raised his hand, snapping his fingers with a spat "Now _leave_!"

Harry choked automatically, his throat closing up as his eyes snapped open in his dormitory, his shocked flailing causing him to roll off his bed and hit a surprisingly warm floor. Gasping for air as he curled into a ball, feeling like every breath he'd ever breathed had been stolen from him, Harry kept his eyes clamped shut as his entire body trembled from the shock of whatever Poseidon had done to him. As he lay there, two hands wormed their way under him and gently lifted him from the floor, carrying him back to his bed and setting him back on it before their owner crawled over Harry to hold him through his stuttering breathing.

"Relax," a more than familiar voice whispered in his ear, Harry wanting to move but lacking the strength to pull himself away from Zeus. "Relax, my son," the God of the Sky continued, "I'll not harm you".

"Not… not my father," Harry rasped out, Zeus' arms tightening around his chest at his words.

"I am," came Zeus' calming reply, the god not seeming angry at his refusal. "I needed a child to stand against Poseidon's son, so I sought out the woman who would deliver me my own. Your mother, who had no idea of her own beauty, did a marvellous job in delivering you with my wife's blessing. You would remain ignorant until such a time that you were needed".

Trying to fight the sleep creeping up on him, something he was certain Zeus was behind, Harry just shook his head slowly, mumbling out refusals that the god didn't seem to even hear.

"Ensure that Perseus returns my Bolt, little spark, and I will return you to your world," Zeus promised as Harry's eyes drifted shut, "Until then. You belong here".

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, he had only a split second of hope that he'd just dreamed the whole thing up, the unfamiliar sight of a dome-shaped ceiling with an odd lightning bolt mobile hanging from the centre of it greeting him and pulling him back down to reality.

Staring up at the bronze ornament hanging from a wooden ceiling, Harry slowly sat up, pushing back his blankets of what felt like silk and swung his legs over the side of the unfamiliar bed.

Where was he? And why wasn't he freaking out about this more?

Pushing himself to his feet, Harry flinched at the feeling of cold stone beneath one of his feet, looking down and quickly stepping across onto the rug of what looked like fur. A flicker of panic filling him, he looked around the small hut he appeared to be in, a faint smell of ozone and freshly cut wood reaching his nose as he took in the crackling fireplace and the furniture scattered around the room.

Hesitantly stepping forward, Harry cautiously approached the chest of drawers at the end of the Greek-looking divan-bed-thing, peering into the top drawer to find a lot of fancy clothes just shoved in without being folded. Shutting the drawer, he kept looking around the hut, part of him hating the way he felt so at home here.

Spotting something glistening on the bedside table, Harry moved over to pick up the golden snitch laying there, watching as it's wings unfurled automatically and it fluttered happily. As it took off, buzzing around his head slowly, Harry's hand snapped out to catch it just as a loud banging sounded on the metal door. Flinching away as the person outside continued knocking, Harry cursed quietly as a sudden added weight in his hand pulled at him, a long golden spear clattering across the stone floor as he quickly let go of what _used_ to be a snitch.

"Hello? HELLO?"

Jumping again as a deep voice called from outside of the hut, Harry looked around wildly for a place to hide the spear before snatching it up from the floor and darting towards the door. Grabbing the door-handle which warmed upon his touch, Harry tugged it open and promptly froze at the sight of the centaur standing before him wearing leather armour.

"Ah. You're awake at last," the centaur greeted as Harry stood there stiffly, holding the spear up behind the door. "They're about to serve breakfast, if you'd like to join your fellow campers in the dining pavilion".

"Fellow campers?" Harry blurted dumbly.

"Indeed," the centaur agreed simply, "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood".

* * *

**DEADLINE**

* * *

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or Percy Jackson._


	72. Maleficar

_Dear Mister Potter_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

_The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August._

_Hoping you are well,  
Yours sincerely_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office  
Ministry of Magic_

Harry found himself numbly re-reading the letter, slowly memorizing the words that were sure to find their way into his nightmares.

He had been expelled from Hogwarts… he wasn't going back to the place that he considered home… all because he had defended himself against the dementors that had been trying to suck out his soul…

A loud droning noise caught Harry's attention, making his eyes slowly rise up to stare at Uncle Vernon, the large man purple in the face as he screamed a steady stream of insults at Harry. Eyebrows furrowing as his brain tried to fight through the shock that blanketed it, Harry stood there silently as Vernon ranted on about how the allowance the other Freaks were paying them wasn't enough to make keeping him around worth it.

"You were getting paid?" Harry interrupted as his mind snapped back to the present, his voice cutting straight through his Uncle's tirade and making the obese man freeze with a confused look on his face. "You were getting _paid_ to look after me. And yet you both constantly claimed that I was a good-for-nothing free-loader?" he demanded. "You treated me like a slave for _fourteen_ years while _stealing _from me?"

"You deserved it Freak," Vernon spluttered as Harry felt anger beginning to burn in his chest. "And it wasn't worth it either. You kept showing off your abnormalities around us normal folk, and now look what you've done to Dudley!"

Listening to his Uncle snarl something about drowning him as a baby, Harry felt something snapping inside him, his eyes drifting closed as haunting phoenix song welled up inside his chest.

Anger sparking behind his eyes made them snap open. He slowly stepped forward as the room's temperature sharply dropped below the summer's usual intense heat. "Shut. The Fuck. Up," he growled out bluntly, his Uncle's mouth opening and closing as he stuttered dumbly in response.

Out of all the thoughts that were screaming in Harry's mind, only one seemed to penetrate the red-tinted haze that covered his brain. He had been expelled, not because he had defended himself, but because he had defended _Dudley_. He had been bloody _Kissed_ because he'd stopped to protect Dudley. (He was also that much of a freak, that even when Kissed by soul-sucking fiends he could just shrug it off).

He could have ran, he had definitely been more than tempted to do so. But instead he stopped to save his cousin, the same cousin who turned around and blamed Harry for it instantly, the same cousin that had joined in the abuse his thieving family had heaped upon him for years.

Glancing back down at the letter still clenched in his fist, Harry recalled what it said. _Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand_. Like hell Harry was going to give up his wand to any Ministry representative, Harry was as good as dead if he didn't have his wand, what with both Voldemort _and_ Vernon baying for his blood.

He needed to get out of Privet Drive, he decided as he turned away and started towards the door. He needed to get out of Privet Drive and… and… and he needed to go to the Burrow, the Weasleys would be able to help him build up a defence to present to the Ministry as proof that he hadn't broken the law.

"WHERE D'YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?" Vernon's voice screamed, his Uncle launching bodily himself across the room to stand in front of the door Harry was heading for. "I haven't finished with you boy," he snarled, jabbing a meaty finger towards Dudley, "You put him right! You fix what you did _now_ or I'll-"

"What?" Harry interrupted darkly, "You'll do what?" he asked as he pulled his wand from his pocket and twirled it around his fingers.

What 'Uncle' Vernon was going to do to him was cut off, as the obese man merely let out a terrified and strangled whimper, as for the second time in a night Harry felt the familiar chill-inducing dread of a dementor's aura approaching.

Somehow standing strong against it, Harry watched apathetically as his 'relatives' slowly fell to the ground with clammy faces and fear-filled eyes. Dudley didn't look so good, he mused thoughtfully as he watched the fat boy quivering sickeningly, he looked almost catatonic with fear while Harry himself felt the dementor's aura flowing around him uselessly.

"Wha- What?" Vernon gasped out, bringing Harry's attention back to him.

"What's happening?" Harry finished for his Uncle, feeling almost _detached_ from what was happening before him as he tilted his head to watch Vernon. "That's the dementor's aura, they feed on happy memories, so whenever they're near all your worst memories are the only ones left," he explained, a little concerned as to how his emotions had just switched 'off' from being on overdrive earlier. "And then, when they get close enough," Harry continued as he walked over to crouch in front of his Uncle, "They suck your soul out through your mouth".

"He-help," his Aunt rasped, making Harry glance over at her.

"Well I couldn't possibly do anything," Harry denied innocently, "What good could a freak like me do? Besides, I got expelled rescuing Dudley from them earlier, so I'm not allowed to perform magic anymore. So sad," he drawled as he heard the sound of the door being thrown open, the dementors sweeping into the room almost instantly. "Too bad".

Standing up against and backing away, Harry watched dispassionately as the dementors made quick work of his family. Funny that he didn't seem to care anymore, just yesterday he'd have been screaming the patronus charm until he was blue in the face, but after feeling his own soul being dislodged by a dementor attempting to Kiss him Harry really couldn't be bothered to conjure up the need to care about them, as long as the dementors didn't try Kiss him again he didn't see the point in wasting his energy.

Closing his eyes and letting the haunting phoenix song in his ears clear his mind, Harry felt himself relaxing for a moment, opening pitch-black eyes as his hand snapped up to close around a dementor's throat when it got to close. "I let you have them," he drawled slowly as he smirked at it, "Be grateful for what you were given and leave me be".

When his other hand rose to catch the other dementor mid-dive, Harry looked between the two creatures hanging limply by his hold on their throats. "So rude," he dead-panned, not even twitching as he felt his magic surging through his arms and into the dementors, causing the thrashing creatures to dissolve into dust.

"Manners are something kids these days just don't have".

Slowly turning blackened eyes to the man in the doorway, Harry turned his head as he felt a sense of familiarity radiating from him. "Do I know you?" he asked emotionlessly.

"I know you," the man countered, "And I have the answers you seek".

Tilting his head slowly as he turned to face the man, Harry thought for a moment before finally asking, "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," the man denied, "You've simply… evolved… beyond what you were previously".

"And what am I know?" Harry asked curiously.

"That depends on who you were before," the man said simply.

"Harry Potter," he introduced hesitantly, "I'm – I was Harry Potter".

"And who are you now?" the man questioned, stepping into the room and beginning to flit about as he inspected everything. "You know _what_ you are," he explained, "Just as easily as you knew how to deal with our fallen brethren".

The man was right. Harry knew what he was. The word _Maleficar_ just falling from his tongue even as he asked himself the question. He was a Maleficar, just like the man opposite him was, just like the rest of their kind were. And just like the dementors were once…

"Who are _you_?" Harry asked slowly, watching the man touring the room, stepping over the bodies of his relatives as if they weren't even there.

"Me? Why I'm Axe, of course," 'Axe' explained simply, "I _used_ to be Chase Collins though. Who are you?" he asked Harry again.

Searching for his name, Harry frowned and looked down at the floor in annoyance. "I… don't know," he confessed slowly.

"Okay".

"Okay?" Harry echoed, glancing up at Axe hesitantly.

"Okay," Axe repeated with a shrug, "You don't know who you are yet. So what? It took me months to figure it out," he explained, honestly sounding like it was nothing.

Staring at the man who was poking at an ornament on the fireplace, Harry let himself ask the first question that came to mind. "How did you find me?"

Axe paused for a moment, before turning to shoot Harry an award-winning smile. "That's a good question," he murmured slowly, "The answer is one you already know however".

Huh… so Harry did. "I want to hear you say it," Harry pressed, stepping forward and narrowing his eyes at Axe.

"Magic sent me," Axe explained, "Back when the Fallen first dislodged your soul, awakening your true self, She spoke to me and told me where to find you".

Nodding to himself as the haunting song rose up inside him once more, Harry watched as Axe grinned slowly. "See? You can hear her, She's so beautiful isn't she".

"Now what?" Harry questioned when the phoenix song faded, "What do we do now?"

"Now I begin your training," Axe admitted, "I teach you what you need to know, how to use your true powers".

"And then? Then what?"

Axe shrugged again, "What do you want to do?"

* * *

**MALEFICAR**

* * *

_I apologise for any errors in this chapter. It's an old idea, one that's been worked at and changed so many times it resembles Frankenstein's monster. If there are any little cuts or broken parts just let me know, I probably missed something._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	73. PLAGIARISM NOTICE

**UPDATED**

Hello my friends!

Since the posting of the original message of this chapter, an explanation has been presented to me in the form of the **original** HorusTheAvenger.

HorusTheAvenger and co are members of an Anti-Plagiarism team that have a considerable track record of helping our fellow Authors that have been victims of plagiarism, and as such they have gathered a considerable number of enemies on this site who were obviously trying to cause trouble by posting this review under their name. So five cheers to the real HorusTheAvenger for all their good work, and check out their forum - a link to which is on my profile - where you'll find not only a topic about this very issue, but you'll also find an awesome forum that I myself will be keeping an eye on for future 'attacks' such as this.

Now, I've got permission to reproduce their PM, but I don't believe it will be all that neccesary, so I'll merely be posting their own explanation of their forum below.

_"[also] this is not the first time someone impersonated us in an attempt to stir trouble or tried to use our reputation to intimidate a writer. _

_Quick explanation: am the admin of the TAPIR anti-plagiarism forum over here on FFN. We have been operating for a few years now and have a considerable track record of helping authors who were plagiarized by others get the plagiarized stories removed from FFN. We do not make accusations without proof and our entire forum is all about about documenting and recording evidence of plagiarism on FFN. If you need further proof of what we say, you are welcome to check out our forum, which is open to all, to see how we work or speak to any of our other staff. _

_Unfortunately our activities makes enemies of the plagiarists we expose and some of them have been trying to get revenge by stirring up trouble. In this case, they are impersonating members of our staff in anon reviews while making false accusations. It is likely they targeting popular authors hoping to manipulate them and their fanbase into attacking us." _**(HorusTheAvenger - 12/08/2015)**

I would also like to thank everyone who reviewed on this chapter with their supporting words. It means a lot to me to know I've got friends here.

* * *

**Original Message**

HorusTheAvenger (who is a guest, so I can't answer directly)

I find your accusation that this story is plagiarized to be rather amusing, namely because this isn't a story, and instead is a large collection of different ideas. If you are speaking about the fact that other authors _also_ have 'dumping grounds' for their ideas like this, then the idea neither belongs to them nor myself, and your claim can easily be likened to accusing someone of plagiarism of others for writing anything in general.

If you're actually talking about Pandemonium being 'plagiarised' from a story called 'The Flames Shadow', then you should know that _I_ was the one who had their story stolen in that situation, and the author who wrote it has already been reported and punished by the authorities.

I do hope you sign in next time so I can simply contact you directly, as I find this method to be largely inaccurate and round-about.

The Undercover Operative.


	74. Memories

"All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black. Pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I dare say".

What little colour there was in Black's face left it rapidly, Harry feeling his own face following it rapidly as Hermione whimpered beside him.

"You – you've got to hear me out," the prisoner croaked. "The rat – look at the rat".

Snape was beyond reason though. He could see the mad glint in the Professor's black eyes, one he'd only seen on his Uncle Vernon's face whenever Harry had used accidental magic as a child. He could see that Snape more than knew what he was doing, the foul man was going to _intentionally_ get Black Kissed, innocent or not. Merlin… Harry could practically _feel_ the hatred and satisfaction radiating off the Professor.

"Now come along, all of you," the man said, clicking his fingers and summoning the ropes binding Lupin to his hands. "I think I'll drag the werewolf too, lead it about by its collar," Snape added mockingly, "Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for it too?"

As the Potions Professor turned to the door, Harry was moving, straightening his back and shoulders as he stood before the door.

"Get out of the way, Potter," Snape hissed coldly, not moving his eyes from Black's trembling form, "You're in enough trouble already. If I hadn't been here to save your skin-"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me countless times this year," Harry interrupted, "I've been alone with him loads of times, he's been teaching me the Patronus charm. If he wanted to kill me he would have done it already," he explained quickly.

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Snape dismissed lazily, the man sending a warning glare in Harry's direction, "How would I understand how such a dark creature thinks? Now _move_".

Whatever Harry had been going to say, he didn't know, but he was pretty certain that it wasn't "You're pathetic".

"They bullied you in school, so you're not even going to _listen_ to them?" he exclaimed angrily, "You – you're just _disgusting_! You treat me like shit, going on about how my father was an arrogant bastard, yet you're going to _kill_ two _innocent_ men because you're throwing a tantrum about what happened in _school_?"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT" Snape screamed furiously, looking like he was seconds away from losing his mind entirely. "You are _so_ much like your father Potter! I have just saved your _neck_! You should be worshipping me on bended knee! Oh I should have let him killed you! You'd have died just like your father – too arrogant to believe-"

"AT LEAST HE DIED A HERO!" Harry shouted, cutting off the ranting (and frothing at the mouth) Professor, "He died to protect me from Voldemort! But look at you! You're going to kill two innocent men because of a _grudge_! I'm proud to be like my Dad, I'd rather be a hero than a murderous _freak_ like you!"

Freak.

Harry had never called anyone that before.

Freak.

Freak had been his name growing up, before today he'd never even _thought_ about calling someone that name. But if anything, out of everyone he knew, _Snape_ deserved it. Not even Voldemort, for all his insanity and bloodlust, deserved to be called that name in Harry's mind. Voldemort was clearly insane, Snape however for all his bullying and bias, was perfectly aware of what he was doing.

As the Professor's wand snapped towards Harry, a flash of light already beginning to emanate from it's tip, the raven-haired wizard didn't hesitate to bring his own wand up – only for the flash to tear it from his grip and hurl it across the room. Straightening up again, he still refused to move as Snape aimed a glowing wand-tip at him, spreading his arms out to the side to block all access.

"Move," the Professor threatened softly, all traces of sanity gone as Harry knew that Snape would happily kill him if he didn't.

"No".

"_Move_," Snape snarled, "For once in your life stop acting like the spoilt brat you are and give someone else some happiness!"

"This isn't happiness," Harry corrected slowly, stepping forward with his eyes locked directly on Snape's. "This is cold-blooded _murder_, Professor. I'm the complete _opposite_ of a spoilt brat, so 'for once in my life' I'm going to do something that _I_ want".

"Oh don't feed me that bull, Potter," Snape spat, "I've seen you strutting around the castle like you own it!"

"I don't strut Professor, that'd be you," Harry countered, mentally begging that Snape wouldn't notice the way he was getting closer and closer with each half-step. "And if I could show you my life, then I would, and then you'd see that I'm not-" he cut off as something washed over him, like a quiet thought in the back of his head that was finally waking up from a long nap.

Why couldn't he show the Professor his life?

Lunging forward before he could stop and think about it, Harry swatted Snape's wand-arm out of the way and pulled back his right arm, slamming his palm onto the startled man's forehead.

And then he pushed.

Almost instantly Snape was letting out a low moan as they both stiffened, all the beatings and abuse from the Dursleys flashing past Harry's mind eye, the raven-haired wizard unaffected by what he'd already lived. Just _knowing_ that the Professor was not only seeing everything that he was, but that Snape was also feeling the emotion that the younger Harry had felt with each slap, punch and kick that landed on his tiny body.

_Stop_

Harry knew instinctively that Snape hadn't spoken aloud, his voice echoing through the link between their minds, barely making itself heard over the barrage of memories that Harry was forcing into the Professor's mind.

_Merlin… please make it stop!_

_Why?_ Harry asked back, automatically following in Snape's footsteps and speaking mentally instead of verbally. _We're not even at my sixth birthday yet._

_PLEASE!_

Harry had to fight back a sneer as Snape collapsed to his knees, Harry's hand following him without pause as he forced memory after memory at him. _You wanted to see, so you see_.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there like that, Snape on his knees with Harry standing over him. All he knew, was that despite the way it felt like he was reliving some of his worst memories, something told him that only seconds had passed in the world outside of their minds. Merlin… he didn't even know _how_ he knew, he just _did_, like it was some long awaken reflex that he'd forgotten about years ago. And it was because of this, that Harry knew Snape wouldn't make it much longer before passing out, the man's already feeble attempts to look away weakening faster and faster.

And then it was over.

Harry's hand fell from Snape's brow as the man fell to the side unconscious, the heavy stream of memories cutting off the moment his hand dropped, forcing a heavy shuddering breath from his lungs as a wave of fatigue washed through him.

"Harry?"

Head snapping around to stare at the concerned-looking Hermione, he managed a weak reassuring smile as his friend edged forward to hand him back his wand, the bushy-haired girl looking down at Snape with a mix of hatred and shame.

"Is he?"

"Unconscious," Harry said simply, "He couldn't handle it".

"Just like your mother," Black's voice croaked, making them both turn, their wands raising to aim at the escaped prisoner. As he finished untying Professor Lupin, the man looked up at Harry with tears welling in his eyes, "Your mother was a powerful Legilimens, a mind-reader, she could walk right into Professor Dumbledore's mind and back out without the man even noticing, slipping right past his shields".

For a moment Harry was desperate to know more about his mother, his wand dipping slightly before a squeak coming from the bed made it snap back up. "You. You said you had proof," he demanded, ignoring the tears in the man's eyes as he glared at Black, "So prove it".

* * *

In the end the proof wouldn't matter. Not to anyone bar Harry, Hermione and Ron. (Even if the latter was still convinced that Sirius Black was a psychotic lunatic; innocent or not).

Peter Pettigrew had escaped. Sirius had been forced to go back on the run with Buckbeak the Hippogriff, after Harry and Hermione had gone back in time to rescue them under Professor Dumbledore's instructions. Lupin had been fired after Snape had 'accidentally' let slip about his condition at breakfast one morning, and even then the dungeon-dwelling Professor had missed on the chance to mock Harry as he avoided the raven-haired wizard to the point of fleeing the room when Harry entered it.

Of course, while Harry would normally have been pleased about the lack of Snape in his life, there was the matter that Ron had decided the hated Professor had a point, and was now treating Harry the same way – only putting up with him during classes and in their dormitory. What little he'd managed to gather from the red-head, was that he was afraid of having Harry read his mind, despite the fact that Harry couldn't.

Whatever it was that had awoken within him in the Shrieking Shack had since returned to its slumber. And aside from a couple of moments during the end of the year that Harry would just look up at someone and just _know_ what they were feeling, all he had to even remind him of what had happened were the headaches that had become common that year and his best friend's absence.

"I can't wait to stay in bed all day tomorrow," Hermione's voice said suddenly, pulling Harry's attention away from what lay beyond the window and across the compartment to his only friend. (Only human friend, Hedwig would bite him if he forgot to add 'human'). "Lavender and Parvati were gossiping all last night about what they were doing these holidays, I barely got any sleep. Besides," the bushy-haired girl added with a guilty smile as she noticed Harry was watching her, "What's the point of the holidays if we can't sleep in?"

"You mean you'll be in bed doing your homework," Harry corrected simply, making the girl blush.

"Maybe after the first day," Hermione confessed sheepishly, "What's the point of the holidays if I have to spend all of them doing homework? It's best to get it finished as soon as possible, especially since you could get inspiration later on and still have time to alter your essays to include it," she explained knowingly as Harry grinned at her.

"I can totally imagine you at one of those spas Aunt Petunia always talks about," Harry mused slowly as Hermione busied herself in brushing her hair away from her face, "Your face would be covered in that green stuff, you'd have those people massaging your feet, and then you'd have a book bigger than my head on your lap and your homework on the table beside you".

Hermione mock-scowled at Harry for a moment before pausing, a pleased expression crossing her face as they both heard the train's horn going off as it started to slow. "That's actually a good idea," she admitted thoughtfully, "I wonder if Mum'll like it?"

Sniggering as they grabbed their luggage and made their way off the train, Harry was grateful for Hermione's squeal of "MUMMY!" when he saw the dark look Molly Weasley was giving him from across the station as Ron spoke to her at a mile an hour. Letting himself be dragged over to Hermione's parents, who had apparently been helped onto the station, he mumbled out a greeting as Hermione led them all off the platform and back to the Muggle part of the station towards where his Uncle Vernon was waiting for him.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione blurted suddenly, "Here. My address and phone number," she explained as she shoved a piece of parchment into his hands, "I know it didn't work out so well when Ron tried last year, but if you manage to call me we might be able to meet up during the holidays".

"BOY!"

"I'll try, Hermione," he promised as she threw her arms around his neck in a quick hug, gently pushing him towards his Uncle as her parents exchanged a knowing look.

"What do you think you're doing making me wait around for your worthless hide?" Vernon hissed the moment Harry reached him, the man's pudgy face turning a dangerous yet normal shade of red.

"Mr Dursley," a voice interrupted, making Harry turn to see a suited man with red sunglasses scowling at his Uncle. "I'll have to ask you to not talk to my charge like that".

"Right," Vernon said smugly, turning to Harry with a pleased look on his face. "You're going with him boy," the man announced proudly, "We're finally getting rid of you".

"Professor Scott Summers," the red-glassed man introduced as Harry blinked in shock and confusion, "My companions and I run a boarding school in America, the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, it's a school for Mutants. For you".

* * *

**MEMORIES**

* * *

_So… it's surprisingly difficult to get back into the swing of things after your muse has been attacked in a dark alleyway by plagiarists, but thankfully they're coming along well in the hospital and should be back on their feet in no time._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own either Harry Potter or X-Men._


	75. Endless Night (POSTED)

"Stand up and draw your wand, Potter".

Nervously making his way to his feet, Harry drew his wand and held it out between himself and the Potions Professor. The desk between them, the two of them faced each other down, an eager look in Snape's dark eyes as Harry dreaded what was about to happen.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Snape said slowly, his sneer revealing that he clearly didn't think Harry capable of protecting himself.

"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively, not liking the idea of it being aimed at him any more than he liked the idea of having the foul man holding it in his head.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape, not at all sounding like he believed it would be hard. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this… brace yourself".

"_LEGILIMENS_!"

Caught unprepared as Snape struck, Harry didn't have a change to even _try_ resist the attack, the office swimming in front of him before vanishing sharply as image after image shot past his mind's eye like a scarily vivid film.

He saw himself when he was five, watching through the slates in his cupboard door as Dudley rode through the house on his brand new red bicycle. He saw himself when he was nine, trapped up a tree as Ripper the Bulldog snarled at him, Dudley throwing rocks up at him as the Dursleys laughed. He saw himself when he was eleven, sitting beneath the Sorting Hat as it whispered how great he could be in Slytherin. He saw himself when he was twelve, alone in the Hospital Wing, reading Hogwarts: A History softly to a petrified Hermione. He saw himself when he was thirteen, standing over an unconscious Hermione and Sirius Black as a horde of dementors flew across the lake towards him. He saw himself when he was fourteen, watching as Cedric hit the ground limply in a flash of emerald-green light. He saw himself when he was fifteen, standing beneath the mistletoe as Cho Chang leaned closer and closer. And then he was eleven again, standing before the Mirror of Erised, staring into it desperately as a strange mist clung to everything it touched.

He could almost feel the backlash as Snape's mind came to a sudden halt and tore that memory to the front of his mind, diving into it greedily.

"_Back again, Harry?"_

_Feeling as though his insides had turned to ice, Harry spun around, freezing at the sight of none other than Albus Dumbledore sitting on one of the desks up against the wall. How had he not seen him? Had he truly walked right past the Headmaster in his rush to get to the mirror? Or had the old man entered afterwards when Harry was captivated with his reflection?_

"_I… I didn't see you, Sir," Harry admitted slowly when it became apparent that the Headmaster was waiting for an explanation._

"_Strange how near-sighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully, the small smile tugging at his lips enough to cause relief to flood Harry's chest. "Especially when one's mind is filled with the wonders of the Mirror of Erised"._

_Harry paused for a moment, glancing back at his family in the mirror before turning to frown at the Headmaster. "Is that what it's called then, Sir?" he asked hesitantly, "The Mirror of Erised?"_

"_Indeed it is Harry," the Headmaster agreed, not moving from his desk as his eyes twinkled in the faint torch light. "So… now that you know its name… can you tell me what it does?" the man questioned slowly._

"_I don't know, Sir," Harry confessed automatically, turning back to the mirror, his family no longer looking back at him and instead glaring over his shoulder at the Headmaster._

"_How about this," the unknowing Headmaster began, "The happiest man on Earth could look into the Mirror, and see himself, exactly as he is. To him, it would be a normal mirror, no different than any other in this castle"._

"_The mirror in my dormitory calls us all fat," Harry interrupted, blinking over at the shocked looking man, "It told me I needed to try the 'Roman Diet'"._

"_It's a mirror Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, "I hardly think that a mirror is an expert when it comes to the nutritional needs of an eleven year old boy. I assure you, as the one who chooses the menus himself, that what you eat every day is healthy for you"._

_Pausing to take in this knowledge, Harry tilted his head slowly, "Does this mean I should ask you if we could have chicken pie for dinner tomorrow?"_

"_Consider it done," the Headmaster said with a chuckle, Harry beaming at the man before turning back to watch his reflection for a moment. "But the Mirror? Do you understand its purpose yet?" he pressed slowly._

_Stopping again to think, Harry tore his eyes away from his smiling mother and stared down at the ground, deep in thought as he ran over what the Professor had just said about the Mirror. "It… it shows us whatever will make us happy?" he asked hesitantly._

"_Yes, and no," Dumbledore agreed. "It shows us nothing less than the deepest most desperate desire of our heart. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Young mister Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, as the best of them all. However… this mirror will give you neither knowledge nor truth," the Headmaster warned, "Greater men than ourselves have wasted away in front of it, entranced by what they see and driven mad by it. One can never know if what they see is real or even possible, after all"._

_The Headmaster paused, eyes lifting up past Harry to stare into the mirror himself, the twinkle dying slightly. "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I must ask you to not go looking for it again," he requested as the dark mist seemed to just vanish suddenly, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that"._

Gasping as Snape's office came back into view suddenly, Harry inhaled greedily for air as he quickly stared up at the Professor, who was staring at Harry as if he didn't know what to do with him all of a sudden.

"That memory. What is it of?" the dark-eyed man demanded silkily, "ANSWER ME!" the Professor roared.

"A Mirror!" Harry blurted quickly, pushing himself back up to his feet. "A Mirror I saw in First Year, it showed me my family, Professor Dumbledore moved it to hide the Philosopher's Stone after that, it stopped Vold- You-Know-Who from getting it".

Snape stared at him for a moment longer, seemingly going over his thoughts before finally saying "If that is the case… then pray tell, _why_ is that memory false?"

"Fal- what?"

"Why is that memory false?" Snape snarled angrily, striding around his desk to grab Harry by the jaw, twisting his head up to stare into his eyes. "Did you not see the fog within your mind?" he growled, "Or were you too dimwitted to even notice it? _What_ is it hiding?" he demanded, "WHAT?"

"I don't know!" Harry defended, unable to pull his jaw away from Snape's grip without using his wand, something he knew would come back to bite him in the end. "I didn't even know it was fake!"

"_LEGILIMENS_!"

Unable to even move, Harry was forced back into his memories, Snape tearing through them all and finding fake memory after fake memory after fake memory squirrelled away within Harry's mind. He couldn't see pattern to them as they flicked past, some were of dangerous times, like when Professor Lupin transformed and attacked them, like when Harry went down into the Chamber of Secrets and Lockhart obliviated himself, and even the Dementor attack at the beginning of the year. And some were so simple… an entire hour-long memory of Harry talking to Hermione in the library about the _Incindio_ charm versus the _Glacius_ charm, an afternoon at Privet Drive where he'd been doing his homework, the time where he'd 'borrowed' some food from the Great Hall and he'd brought Hermione and Ron up to the Astronomy tower for a picnic at the end of First Year.

Hissing in pain as Snape threw his jaw to the side, twisting his neck painfully as the man stalked off behind him, Harry rubbed his throat as he resisted the urge to turn around.

False memories? What was the Professor even talking about? Harry didn't know memories could be _read_ before Christmas that year, let alone falsified. He wouldn't have any clue about _how_ to fake them either, Hermione hadn't been able to find anything on memories when she searched the library for books on Occlumency, and considering how Hermione was his go-to source of knowledge that was saying something.

"Here!" Snape spat as he reappeared in front of Harry, "Drink this Potter. Hurry up!" the man ordered as he shoved a small smoking vile in Harry's face. "Should you truly know nothing of these false memories, then you'll have no problem drinking this restoration potion, unless the great Harry Potter is too good to believe a mere 'dungeon bat' like myself?" he asked with a sneer.

Pausing for a moment to glare up at Snape, who was now just being petty and was obviously trying to egg him on, Harry accepted the potion, stopping only to eye it hesitantly before downing it in its entirety. Snape was an idiot, but not even he was stupid enough to poison Harry when Dumbledore knew where he was.

He wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to happen next, Snape just kept staring at him expectantly, and Harry felt no different even after he'd handed the empty potion vial back. "Is something supposed to be happening, Professor?" he finally asked hesitantly, the man's eye twitching angrily at his voice.

"The mind is a fragile thing, Potter," Snape said slowly, all traces of anger gone from his voice as – _was that concern? _\- filled his eyes. "The potion must work slowly to ensure your memories are returned in one piece, and not shattered. Although… he continued softly, "I have yet to see it take _this_ long".

"If this potion restores memories, then why not try that on Professor Lockhart?" he questioned curiously, Snape rolling his eyes so wildly Harry feared they'd roll out of their sockets.

"I'd hardly call that buffoon a Professor," Snape countered, speaking almost _civilly_ to Harry, "And his memories were not altered, they were erased. Were he of any skill, in oblivation, then he could have left traces, as it were, of his memories to be recovered. Since he was a lacking wizard with a lacking wand, however, he overpowered the spell and wiped his mind clean. What has happened to _you_ however, despite your being a lacking wizard, is that your memories have been suppressed and written over by a much more skilled wizard, which leaves traces beneath the false memories that the mental restoration potion can pull forth to the surface," he explained with only the slightest bit of a drawl to his voice.

Frowning slightly as he processed that information, Harry opened his mouth to ask a question, only for something to flicker at the corner of his vision, making him glance over at it, not seeing Snape's wand snap up until…

"_Legilimens_".

"_It's a mirror Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, "I hardly think that a mirror is an expert when it comes to the nutritional needs of an eleven year old boy. I assure you, as the one who chooses the menus himself, that what you eat every day is healthy for you"._

_Pausing to take in this knowledge, Harry tilted his head slowly, "Does this mean I should ask you if we could have chocolate cake for dinner tomorrow?"_

"_Consider it done," the Headmaster said with a chuckle, Harry beaming at the man before turning back to watch his reflection for a moment. "But the Mirror? Do you understand its purpose yet?" he pressed slowly._

_Stopping again to think, Harry tore his eyes away from his smirking reflection and stared down at the ground, deep in thought as he ran over what the Professor had just said about the Mirror. "It… it shows us whatever will make us happy?" he asked hesitantly, a little unsure as to how what he saw would make him happy._

"_Yes, and no," Dumbledore agreed. "It shows us nothing less than the deepest most desperate desire of our heart. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Young mister Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, as the best of them all. However… this mirror will give you neither knowledge nor truth," the Headmaster warned, "Greater men than ourselves have wasted away in front of it, entranced by what they see and driven mad by it. One can never know if what they see is real or even possible, after all"._

"_I don't see my family, Sir," Harry corrected slowly, making the Headmaster pause and frown at him._

"_You do not?" Dumbledore asked curiously, "What is it that you see then?"_

"_I see me," Harry confessed, turning back to the mirror as a small smile graced his face at his reflection's wink. "I'm older, but I'm still young. Not like your age, but maybe like I've just graduated. I'm sitting on a throne, in a huge cave, and there are a lot of smaller thrones surrounding it, all of them around this huge table," he explained absently. "I'm sitting in the big throne, and I think I'm wearing something made of leather," he added with a scrunched up face, "I'm not wearing a shirt either, and there's this big tattoo going up my arm and onto my face"._

"_What else?" Dumbledore pressed, his voice strange, not that Harry noticed as he kept staring at the mirror._

"_There's black smoke everywhere?" Harry continued with a shrug, "It all looks so dark… but we're happy. We're all laughing and talking as we eat"._

"_What about you?" the Headmaster asked as Harry heard him walking across the room to stand behind him, "What are doing?"_

_Holding a hand out, Harry frowned down at it before snapping his fingers, a black puff of smoke appearing out of nowhere as a mirror appeared in his hand. "That," he admitted, tilting the mirror back so he could see Dumbledore over his shoulder, "How did I do that?" he added curiously, "I tried to look it up in the library but I couldn't find any type of magic that described it"._

"_It doesn't matter, Harry," Dumbledore said simply, "You won't be able to do it again"._

_Tilting the mirror a bit on instinct, Harry barely had time to recognise that Dumbledore's wand was aiming at him, before a flash of white light ended the memory sharply._

* * *

**RESTORATION**

* * *

_Okay. I'll be the first to admit that this doesn't exactly follow DZ2's _Clear the Mist_ challenge exactly. But the idea took root and basically wrote itself, the crossover part of it would start happening within the next couple of chapters should I keep writing it, and I hope that I would manage to keep it from becoming a cliche Manipulative!Dumbledore fic._

_The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter._


	76. Jump

Werewolves.

Ordinary human beings who, upon the rising of the full moon, become violent and deadly wolves.

As class XXXXX magical beings, ones that have more than a passing resistance to magic while in wolf form, the best course of action for any under-age witch or wizard that comes across a transformed werewolf is to immediately flee the danger area and contact the Ministry of Magic.

Unfortunately, for one Hermione Granger, the 'danger area' was right between her and the only door out of the swimming pool.

Hands trembling as she stared at the approaching werewolf, Hermione found herself wishing she'd thought to bring her wand, not having thought she'd need it for a simple late-night swim. As it were, she was defenceless against the werewolf that was only seconds from sniffing her out, unable to even skirt around the edges of the pool because of its speed.

Biting back a whimper as the werewolf froze, lifting itself onto its hind legs to sniff at the air properly, Hermione felt a brief moment of joy followed by guilt and dread as an echoing bang sounded from the other side of the swimming area. Eyes tracking the werewolf's, she cringed as she saw movement through the dark doors to the men's changing room, the werewolf dropping back down to all fours as it slunk around the pool towards the door.

Still standing frozen, hidden in the shadows of the woman's changing room door, Hermione could only watch in horror as a teenage boy stepped out into the moonlight shining in from the sky-roof over the pool. Arms stretching above his head to reveal a muscled chest, the lean dark-haired boy padded forward on silent feet, completely unaware of the werewolf creeping towards him in the shadows that the bleachers against the wall cast. Mouth opening and closing wordlessly, Hermione tried to move her paralysed limbs, part of her mind certain beyond belief that she was going to watch this teen die in front of her, terrified at the fact that she would watch him die without being able to lift a finger to help.

As the werewolf came even with both Hermione and the stretching boy, eyes almost glowing in the shadows, a frightened squeal escaped her lips, making two sets of eyes snap up to stare at her. Suddenly able to move again, she stepped out of the shadows and her hand flew up to point beyond the boy, trembling as she managed to find the words to scream _"RUN!"_ at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoing through the pool, the werewolf's snarl was almost missed by both teens, as the boy spun around in time for the beast to launch itself at his chest.

And then the werewolf hit the water, the boy having vanished like he'd never been there at all. Hermione screamed as a hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning about and lashing out to strike the boy across the face before she realised it was the black-haired teenager not the black-furred werewolf that'd grabbed her.

"Ow," the boy deadpanned, pulling her back from the doorway slightly so he could peer past her at the werewolf scrambling and floundering in the water. "What the _fuck_ is that?" he demanded seconds later, piercing emerald green eyes locking onto hers as he turned her around to stare at her expectantly. "Well?"

"Werewolf," she blurted dumbly, pushing down the urge to inform the boy that "You have pretty eyes… shit".

For a moment an echo of an arrogant smirk flashed across his face, before it vanished and gave way to the sceptical look that the boy sent at her with a blunt "Werewolves don't exist".

Tearing her eyes away from the boy's, Hermione instead found herself staring down at his chest instead, only needing a second before she was jerking her head back up to look at the lesser of two evils as she shook her head. "They do," she insisted nervously, eyes flicking over to where the werewolf was finally climbing out of the opposite side of the pool, looking like a drowned rat as Hermione turned back to the boy. "They do, and we need to run, now!"

Scoffing at her, the boy peered out at the werewolf with narrowed eyes before shaking his head. "Irish Wolfhound," he declared simply, "_Rabid_ Irish Wolfhound," he corrected with a shrug, "But it's not a werewo-" at this point the werewolf moved to climb back up to its hind legs, the boy's mouth falling open in shock as they both watched it fix its glowing amber eyes on them. "I don't wear silver," he mumbled, turning back to Hermione with a lost expression, "It clashes with my skin".

Deciding to pretend she hadn't heard that last part (as well as pretending she hadn't just mentally agreed with him), Hermione just latched onto the boy's wrist and started running, dragging him towards the door as the werewolf tilted its head back to howl at the moon. Hearing the beast beginning to give chase, its claws clinking across the tiled floor as they ran, a feeling of horror filling her as she realised they weren't going to make it in time. In addition to horror, Hermione felt sick, as she had a dark thought that told her she could make it if she tripped the boy.

Pushing the thought from her mind before it could even fully form, Hermione glanced over her shoulder, time seeming to slow as the werewolf ate up the distance between them. The black-haired teen dug his heels in suddenly, time speeding up again as he spun and charged the beast instead, leaving her watching in horror as the boy vanished again and came shooting out of the wall to tackle the werewolf into the pool, vanishing again to appear beside Hermione, drenching her in the water that apparently apparated with him.

"You're a wizard!" she blurted accusingly, turning to slap her palm against the boy's wet chest.

The boy just blinked at her for a moment, "I- no," he denied simply, "I'm Harry. And we should run," he added with a glance towards the werewolf. Allowing long fingers to curl around her wrist, Hermione let 'Harry' led her from the pool, slamming through the doors and out into the reception area. "So, what are you even doing here?" Harry asked as he doubled back to shut the doors quickly, muscles rippling as he tipped a cupboard over to try block the door off, "I mean I thought this place would be empty".

"That's why you broke in?" Hermione realised, ignoring the werewolf she could hear splashing back in the pool area, "So you could swim?"

"I didn't break in, I teleported, big difference," Harry corrected with a sniff, "Although to be fair it's not like you have any room to talk".

"_I_ have permission!" Hermione argued, "My uncle's girlfriend runs this place, she offered to let me use it at night since I don't like crowds. _I_ have a key".

"Yeah. Cool, whatever," Harry dismissed, "What do we do now? Cos that? That ain't going to hold it," he explained, hiking his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

"I uh- I don't know," she confessed awkwardly, "I don't have an owl, so I can't contact the Ministry and let them know".

"There's a _Ministry_?" Harry blurted, blinking at her in shock, "How many werewolves _are_ there?"

"I mean the Ministry of Magic," she explained, "Witches and wizards? Like us?"

"I'm not a wizard," Harry corrected, sending her a 'Don't be ridiculous' look. "I'm a teleporter. I've never pulled a rabbit out a hat, or… or turned someone into a newt".

"We don't do that," Hermione denied with a frown, "Well, not the first one".

Whatever Harry's answer was going to be was cut off as something large and heavy slammed into the door, making them both whirl around to stare at it. "You don't have a plan?" he asked slowly, backing away from the door to stand by her side.

"No".

"Huh… hold your breath," Harry instructed, making her blink in confusion, turning to face him just as he grabbed her and pulled her close, slamming her face right into his chest.

Then she was blind. She couldn't see, hear, feel, or even breath… for one second, for two seconds.

And then she was back again, gasping for air as music filled her ears, her eyes snapping back open to look around the flash looking apartment she was standing in. Mouth opening and closing silently once more, Hermione looked around at the décor and the things strew around the place, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were standing in the boy's apartment. "Where… where are we?" she asked hesitantly, before freezing and taking in the floating ball of metal on the table, "You _are_ a wizard!" she yelled, pulling away from Harry as she slapped at his still bare chest.

Harry just sighed, shaking his head slowly, making her nod quickly. "Yes!" she insisted, "You apparated! And explain _that_!" she exclaimed, jabbing her finger at the hovering metal ball.

"I did what now?" the teen asked curiously, smoothly raising an eyebrow at her.

"You apparated! Magical teleportation?" Hermione exclaimed, raising her own eyebrows at him only for Harry to not even blink back. "And that? That's magical!"

The boy just sighed, vanishing almost silently and reappearing next to the table instantly. Picking up the metal ball and it's pedestal, Harry vanished once more, teleporting back to stand before her as he held the two objects out for Hermione to inspect. "It's not magic," he said slowly as she accepted the offer and snatched them from his hands, "It's science. Magnetic levitation, well, magnetic levitation".

"I… oh," Hermione exhaled slowly as he took them back and teleported back over to the table to put the metal ball back. "But… you still apparated?" she asked hesitantly, suddenly a lot more unsure her accusations that he was a wizard.

"Never heard that word before in my life," Harry admitted, shrugging as he stood there casually.

"Magical teleportation?" she repeated, making him shake his head. "Oh".

"I would say that magic doesn't exist," Harry began slowly, "But I'm a teleporter, you're apparently a witch, and that was a werewolf. So thank you for ruining my view on life".

"You're welcome," Hermione squeaked out, coughing gently so she could say "You're welcome," again without sounding like a prepubescent girl. "I'm Hermione," she added, introducing herself rather late as she glanced around his apartment again, absently wondering if his parents were going to come out to investigate their noise-making.

"Harry," came the simple reply, the boy not seeming to care that his chest was on full display, constantly drawing her blushing eyes back to it. The bastard knew he looked good, he had to, there was no other reason for him to be standing so… provocatively.

Noticing the moonlight still coming through the apartment windows, Hermione realised they had to still be somewhere in the same time-zone, moving over to the window after a glance at the clearly deep in thought Harry.

London… they were in London, she could see the London Eye in the distance.

"So uh…" Harry began, breaking through her thoughts and making her turn back to see him drying himself off with a towel, "Where do you live?"

"What?"

"Where do you live?" Harry asked again, leaving the towel over his shoulder as he moved over to open a laptop and turn it on. "I can just look up your place on Google Maps and teleport to it," he explained, "It'll be safer than dropping you off at the pool again".

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning when Hermione finally got to go to bed, having spent almost an hour trying to assure her parents that she'd be fine heading back to help fix up the pool in the morning, and that the werewolf hadn't touched her.

She wasn't entirely sure _what_ she was going to tell her Uncle's girlfriend come morning though, especially since she knew that she had security cameras set up to stop people from breaking in, meaning she caught both the werewolf _and_ Harry on film. Worst case scenario she'd have to Diagon Alley and find her way to the Ministry of Magic to report that the Statue of Secrecy had been breached.

Slowly taking off her jumper, Hermione shivered slightly in the cool air of her bedroom, emptying out her pockets before faltering as a small piece of paper fell out of her wallet and fluttered to the floor. Frowning as she picked it up and squinted at the writing, she could only let out a snort of disbelief before giggling, propping the note up on her bedside table as she climbed into bed.

Making herself comfortable, Hermione glanced over at the note, which was bathed in the suddenly much scarier moonlight.

"_So… you ever had dinner by candlelight in Paris? Call me if you're interested - Harry ;)"_

* * *

_**Jump**_

* * *

_Based off my own '_Jumper_' challenge, this idea was a little awkward to write since I just couldn't seem to get anything right. Hope you guys enjoy it more than I did._

_I don't own Harry Potter._


	77. Champion

The rain fell softly on the small town of Little Hangleton.

The moon was at its fullest, shining down on the town through an almost perfectly clear sky, not that anyone would dare going outside to gaze up into the night sky. It was due to this reluctance to leave their warm homes at midnight that caused the townspeople to miss what happened, the moon's light dimming for just a second, before a large lean dog appeared in the middle of the street; tail wagging gently as it stared at an empty space not too much further down the road.

Upon the dog letting out a soft bark, the space was no longer empty, a figure of below average height appearing with a soft barely audible _pop_. Shivering in the cold air, the figure pulled his brown leather coat tighter around his body, glancing up at the raining sky with a grimace before snapping a finger, a wave of… _something_… rolling across his body.

The rain now rolling off his body without a mark, the man – no, the boy – looked around the street he'd appeared on, licking his lips nervously as his eyes fell on the dog standing there. The two black-haired beings stood there for a moment, words passing between the two of them silently, before the dog suddenly turned tail and started off at a trot with the boy following closely behind.

Nothing happened as they walked, the world around them seeming frozen as they made their way through the town slowly, as if they had nowhere to be in a rush. The boy and his dog eventually turned onto the road leading out of town, seemingly unaware that the once handsome manor formally belonging to the Riddles; an unpopular family of snobs was the only thing that awaited them down that road.

Or… perhaps they knew exactly that? It was certainly the most likely of options, as the boy followed his dog all the way up the winding road to the manor, a light breeze tugging at the boy's brown coat and making it swirl around his knees. Finally the two stopped, right at the closed and sealed gate to the manor, both of them staring up through the rain at the large ominous building.

"_Harry?"_

Harry Potter started at the voice, before glancing down at the dog sitting by his feet. "I know," he murmured, emerald green eyes flicking up back to watch the manor through his fringe, "I just…"

"_It needs to be done"._

"I know," Harry repeated again, "Are you sure I can do this?" he asked the air, slowly stepping forward and letting his quidditch boots squelch into the mud as he approached the gate, his eyes falling upon the rusty padlock keeping it shut.

"_Of course, I would not have chosen you if you couldn't"._

Nodding stiffly, Harry reached out to the padlock, concentrating on it and awkwardly pushing his magic into it through his hand. "_Alohomora_," he cast softly, his palm shining with a brief flash of light before the padlock let out a loud _click_ and fell to the ground open.

"_You know what needs be done, Harry"._

"I do," he confirmed, pushing open the gate and wincing at the loud creaks its rusty hinges released at the movement. "And I'll do it," he assured the air, even as he hesitated to take the first step onto the property. "I'm just… nervous… about it".

"_Don't be. You understand why it must be done, correct?"_

"Correct," Harry choked out, glancing over his shoulder at the still sitting dog.

"_Then do it"_.

Nodding again, Harry turned back to the manor and started forward, ignoring the dog's whine of farewell as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other instead of his upcoming task. Moving through the rain as silently as if he were a ghost, he was climbing the steps of the leaking building's porch before he knew it, reaching out for the door and opening it without breaking his stride.

"_They didn't even lock the door. Their arrogance disgusts me"._

Trying not to think about that comment too much, he slowly looked around the clean yet morbid seeming manor, the gas lamps on the walls not giving off as much light as he wished they would. In all fairness though, considering exactly who lived within this manor, Harry wasn't all too surprised by the choice in dark décor.

"Flint? What do you think your-" "_Reducto_".

His eyes clamped shut, Harry fought down the growing urge to throw up as he heard the soft _thump_ of a body hitting the floor, slowly forcing his eyes to open and look down his extended hand to where an unknown man lay dead on the floor with a huge chunk just missing from his chest. Staring down at the body for a moment, his eyes eventually moved down to the vivid Dark Mark visible on the man's arm, a little bit of his guilt vanishing as he remembered what the man must have done to earn it.

It was only a little bit of his guilt, but it was just enough for him to move on up the stairs without a backwards glance.

"_Reducto_," he cast as he reached the top of the stairs, hurling a bolt of electric-blue magic down the hallway to his left as another Death Eater rounded the corner. Reaching out with both his hands, Harry held them palm down as he took a deep breath, concentrating for a moment before incanting "_Fumos_".

As a faint yellow light shone from his palms, Harry watched as a fine cloud of smoke materialised around him, a little impressed with how useful the spell was as it spread up and gathered throughout the air around him. He'd never used that spell before, aside from learning it as part of his Charms homework, but he felt that should he be getting into another fight any time soon he'd have to give it a go. When the light in his palms died, Harry took that as a sign that the spell was finished, looking around through the transparent – to him only – smoke before starting forward again and heading down the hallway opposite the one the Death Eater had come from.

He hadn't wanted to be here, doing this. Well no… that wasn't true. He most certainly hadn't _thought_ about being here and doing this, nor would this have been his first choice of action. But he'd been given an offer he felt he couldn't resist.

The Wizarding World were all too happy to pretend that the last year of abuse and slander had never happened, all of them _expecting_ him to forgive and forget and then having the gall to blame _him_ when he tried to refuse. Albus Dumbledore – the man who Harry still blamed for the death of Sirius – had even gone as far as trying to _force_ him to forgive them, insisting that he needed to accept their obviously 'heart-felt' apologies, for hatred was the 'path to the dark side'. (And thanks, Yoda, Harry had seen enough of the Star Wars series to know a quote when he heard one).

Anyway.

Harry had been in his dormitory alone, looking through his photo album at the latest picture of himself and Sirius he'd taken during Christmas that year, when he'd realised something that should probably have worried him – were it not for Voldemort's willingness to just kill everyone, and Harry's being the only person who could stop him, he could have quite happily packed his bags and left.

Which is exactly what the offer was.

He hadn't trusted the woman at first, who would trust a woman who just mysteriously appeared to you when you were naked in the shower after all? But she hadn't even _tried_ to peak, and instead had just conjured a chair to sit in as she spoke… spoke of a world full of gods, demigods and monsters, and of his place in it. She offered to give him the 'Power the Dark Lord Knows Not' and to help him destroy Voldemort, in exchange for a single favour – something about returning a stolen item – and all in all 'simple' deal.

Except it wasn't… even if Harry refused the deal, it didn't change the fact that he was apparently a demigod, since only demigods could be given deals such as this. And if he accepted the deal? He'd remain a demigod, only he'd be granted an aspect of the woman's – the goddess' power – so he could act as her 'Champion' on Earth. This Championship, or whatever it was called, would be the Power that Voldemort knew not.

And it was time for Harry to introduce it to him.

Pausing at the door to Voldemort's 'throne room', Harry took a deep breath, before raising his hands and flicking them at the door to blast it open. Striding straight in as the smoke around him faded, he ignored the Death Eaters gathered in the room as he instead locked eyes with the Dark Lord himself. Emerald green stared into Ruby red, as the room say deathly silent, none of the Death Eaters able to react as the two stared each other down. As Voldemort slowly made his way to his feet, a snake-like smirk growing across his face, Harry didn't give him the chance to speak as he raised a hand in front of him.

"_Incindio_".

A ball of fire appearing in his palm, Harry watched as Voldemort froze. Thrusting his hand forward, he threw the fire at the Dark Lord in the form of a beam, watching emotionlessly as it splashed against a colourless shield surrounding Voldemort.

"Wandless magic," Voldemort mused thoughtfully, "Thank you, Harry Potter, for making your demise interesting".

Harry however, hadn't heard a word the Dark Lord had said as he closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the barriers that fell into place over the building as the goddess that had sent him upheld her end of the bargain. "Your mother sends her regards, Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said clearly, opening his eyes again to stare at the shocked looking demigod standing opposite him, "But she thinks you should have just stayed dead".

Raising both his hands this time, Harry pointed his palms at the suddenly scared looking Dark Lord, "_Aufero Sarcina_".

For a moment nothing happened, but then as Voldemort smirked victoriously at Harry, a white light began to shine from his palms, reaching out across the room to touch upon the Dark Lord whom stiffened instantly. As the light grew in strength, Harry was forced to narrow his eyes to silts so he could still see, Voldemort now standing with his back arched as pain flashed across his serpentine face. Eventually a scream became audible, not from the Dark Lord himself, but from his Death Eaters as each one of them fell to the ground in pain as their Dark Marks burned and ate away at their flesh.

The light from his palms dying suddenly, Harry let his sore arms drop to his side, unable to tear his eyes away as Voldemort's skin disintegrated… followed shortly by his flesh, and then his muscles, then his bones, leaving nothing but a pile of ash that was blown away in a non-existent wind.

"_Finish it"._

Gasping for breath after his last spell sucked it all away, Harry gathered what little strength he had left, his body and magic accustomed to wizardry instead of the more powerful sorcery. "_Incindio,_" he cast again, conjuring another ball of fire in his hand. This time instead of turning it into a stream, Harry pulled back his hand and threw the ball at the bookshelves on the wall, watching as they quickly caught fire. Repeating the process on the other wall, he only hesitated for a second over the thought of leaving the unconscious Death Eaters in the building to burn, before he was turning and making his way out of the building as if he'd just finished a lovely lunch with the Dark Lord instead of using a sorcery-based counter-spell to reverse the effects of the ritual he'd used two years ago to regain a body.

Tears stung at his eyes as he started down the stairs, but Harry wasn't sure if they were of grief over what he'd just done without hesitation or if they were of relief that it was finally all over.

"_You impressed me, Harry"._

Not wanting to risk speaking, Harry just strode out of the building and started down the driveway, only coming to a stop when he'd reached the dog again. "I've kept my end of the deal," he forced out, tilting his head back to stare into the moonlit sky, his hands trembling by his sides.

"_And I shall keep mine, of course"_.

Fingers clenching around the item that appeared in his hands, Harry looked down at the envelope, opening it and peering in to see one ticket to New York and a passport he knew to be his. "And these will get me to this 'Camp Half-Blood' of yours?" he questioned, finally looking directly at the dog as he spoke.

"_Indeed,_" the dog agreed as Harry opened the passport to look at it curiously. _"From there just follow the map in the envelope to the Camp, once there, inform Chiron of your name and title and he will see that you settle in. I will contact you when it is time for you to uphold your end of our bargain"._

"Of course, Lady Hecate," Harry promised simply, closing his eyes and spinning on his heel, envisioning his dormitory back at Hogwarts.

Appariting straight through the wards as if they were not there, he just waved his hand with a quietly whispered "_Pack_", watching as his belongings all rapidly packed themselves tightly into his trunk. Reaching out slowly to pick his wand up from the bedside table, he smiled faintly as he slipped it into the inner pocket of his leather coat, glancing at his bed once to ensure the letter he'd written earlier that night was still there, before picking up his trunk and turning on his heel once more.

With an almost soundless _pop_, Harry Evans, once Potter, vanished from Hogwarts for good.

* * *

**CHAMPION**

* * *

_Technically based off DZ2's _Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood_ challenge. This is a possible idea I'm coming up with to replace Pandemonium, as I find myself incapable of writing _anything_ for that story anymore - more to come on that front later._

_I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson._


	78. Summer Holidays

"_The Power The Dark Lord Knows Not"_

To say Albus Dumbledore was nervous, would be to making an understatement.

In addition to this note written in Harry Potter's handwriting, delivered to him this beautiful morning by an equally beautiful Hedwig, was a single vial filled with an all-too-familiar silvery-blue liquid.

A memory.

But of what, Albus could only wonder.

But that wasn't why he was nervous. Well… actually it was. Not only was he worried about how young Harry had managed to extract the memory, the boy not having the knowledge nor equipment to do so, but he was also worried about the fact that Harry had apparently discovered the 'Power the Dark Lord Knows Not' on his own.

That was one of the reasons Albus was hesitant to watch the memory Harry had sent to him. There were only so many ways that he could imagine Harry's ability to love being presented, and the last thing he wanted to see was the boy he'd come to see as a grandson engaging in a ritual of a sexual nature in order to destroy Voldemort. Of course, it could also be any number of the various love-powered spells out there, but since none of them were combat spells – instead being some of the world's strongest healing magicks – he doubted that they'd be of any use to Harry in a duel.

As Fawkes let out an assuring trill, Albus smiled gratefully in the direction of the phoenix, before uncorking the vial and tipping it out into the pensieve before him. Reaching into his drawer before he entered the memory, he ensured he had his favourite muggle spiral pad and fluffy pen before diving right in, hoping he wouldn't need to cover his eyes or scramble to leave the memory.

Except his first impression told him to do exactly that. It was only his mind finally catching up to his eyes that stopped Albus from fleeing the memory until he could build up the courage to watch it. So yes, while there _was_ an alarming amount of flesh on display, it was only because young Harry was lounging on a hot sandy beach in a pair of muggle shorts, and not because his honorary grandson was engaging in any inappropriate acts. Actually, now that Albus thought about it, this hardly looked like any beach he knew of, there weren't any beaches in England that had those lovely little Hawaiian flower necklace things were there?

It was the sight of the resort in the background, and the other tourists all sunbathing on the beach that made Albus' jaw drop. How had Harry gotten past the watchers he had in place at Privet Drive without any of them warning him?

"Hey, Headmaster," Harry greeted suddenly, the boy lifting his head to look at exactly the space Albus was standing – so Harry _did_ know what he was doing, only someone who knew would set an entry point like this. "Greetings from Hawaii. This place is lovely, amazing beaches, hours worth of sun, beautiful women. Sure, it's a little more expensive than I thought it would be, but I'm rich, so who cares?" Harry said with a shrug, reaching out a hand to catch the can of muggle soda that appeared out of nowhere. "Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering how I got here -" at this Albus nodded, before remembering with a start that this was a memory "- and how I knew what to do in order to make this memory".

As Albus nodded again, scowling at himself for a moment, he watched as Harry stretched and sat up. "The answer is pretty simple, you'll figure it out soon, I'm sure".

With that, Harry Potter shot Albus a cheeky grin before vanishing with only a soft rumble to mark his passing, the Headmaster remaining in the memory for just a split second more before he was being kicked out of the memory as it ran out.

Gasping as he tried to regain his breath – there was a reason he hated viewing memories till the end in a pensieve – it took him longer than he'd admit to notice that the chair opposite his desk had been moved around it and a small stack of books sat on it with another memory vial. "Fawkes," he began, not needing to finish the sentence as the phoenix cooed sadly and shook his head, apparently not having seen Harry – for who else could it be – moving everything into place.

Sighing, Albus did the only thing he could, which was add this new memory to the pensieve after removing the first, before diving right back in.

"So I guess you know by now am I right?" Harry asked, Albus watched as the boy zipped up a pair of jeans and buttoned up his shirt. "I mean, you know what the power is right? How else could I have gotten into your office and out again without using your door?"

The blasted boy was right, Albus realised with a combination of both impression and annoyance washing through him. Harry had, somehow, managed to bypass Hogwarts' wards before apparating into his office under his invisibility cloak. That also meant that the boy had some way of seeing into his office so he knew when Albus was in the memory.

It was then that he noticed what was wrong, Harry had just been on Hawaii, so why was the Eiffel Tower visible from the window? There was _no_ way that Harry had gotten from Hawaii to France using apparition, the amount of power that far of a distance would take would tire even Albus out, especially since the only other way for Harry to have done it was to take muggle transportation which was even more unlikely.

"An illusion?" he asked himself thoughtfully as he obediently followed Harry from the room, shuddering each time he walked past someone in the crowded hallway. It was a very elaborate one if that were true, but what else could it be? An illusion would explain both the movement in his office _and_ the movement in locations. But if Harry had learned to apparate at age fifteen, something he fully believed the boy capable of, would it not be possible for Harry to have 'filmed' these memories at two different times?

"So I'm not going to even pretend to understand how your mind works," Harry began as they found themselves in an empty alleyway, "But I'm going to tell you this, which I'm sure you'll have no troubles understanding alright? I _will_ be going back to Hogwarts next year. But if you search for me, if you try force me back to the Dursleys, then you'll never see me again," he promised simply, the look in Harry's eyes telling Albus that the boy was deadly serious. "I'm going to have some fun this summer, I'm going to enjoy myself, and then – only if you're good – I'll come back in time for Hogwarts to start, and I'll play nice okay? I think if anyone deserves a vacation, then it's me, yeah?"

"Oh, ad just to prove that I'm being utterly serious," Harry added, "Watch".

And with that Harry was gone, five feet to the right. And then he was beside Albus, then he was in the mouth of the alley, and then he was back to where he had been initially – the only sign he'd moved at all being the soft rumbling sounds that followed.

"You won't be able to catch me Albus, the moment I catch sight of you or your little Order of the Phoenix, I can be on the other side of the world in a heartbeat," Harry warned, "Don't test me. You won't like it when the results come back in".

Albus didn't even get the chance to think before he was being kicked out of the rather short memory, quickly adjusting to the need to breath again as he shook his head rapidly. What was he going to do? Did he just sit back and let Harry run around doing what he wanted? Or did he put his foot down and stop this childish behaviour?

No…

It didn't matter what Albus did. Harry was right, what he'd been doing _wasn't_ apparition, meaning it likely couldn't be traced. And even if it could, if Harry can get across the world in the blink of an eye then what could he or the Order do to stop him? Even if they stunned him and brought him back, he'd just leave again.

No. He'd let Harry have this holiday of his, the boy would need it. Albus planned on beginning his training next year, and he'd need all the joy he could get.

* * *

A soft rumble tore through the air, disturbing naught but the lone early-rising bird peaking at the ground for worms. Seconds later, Harry Potter was standing on the hillside, watching the bird fly off into the sunset like in a bad romance novel.

Humming to himself, Harry looked around for a moment before pulling his backpack up higher onto his shoulder, turning to face the castle he could see in the distance. Taking a step forward, it only took one more rumble before his foot was setting down on the stone floor of the Hogwarts entrance hall, the boy glancing around with a fond smile on his face.

God he'd missed this place. None of the other castles he'd seen on his journey were anything like this one, and none of the places he'd stayed in even came _close_ to Hogwarts.

Barely making it to the staircase, Harry was gone again, reappearing in his dormitory to find four occupied beds and one – his – unoccupied bed. "How nice," he murmured to himself upon seeing his trunk waiting at the end of his bed, knowing already that it was mostly empty with only the things he didn't want left in it. Dumping his bag on the bed, Harry quickly changed into his Hogwarts uniform – which he'd left in his trunk – and emptied the backpack out onto his bed. A flick of his wand had the clothes quickly floating into his trunk, folding themselves neatly, while another flick had his school books sorting themselves into alphabetical order beside the clothes. The remains of his backpack however, were looked upon with joy, as Harry set an unmoving muggle photo on his bedside table before placing everything else into a small shoebox-sized chest which was shrunk and hung around his neck.

Letting out a pleased noise as he realised he was already ready for his day, Harry pocketed his wand, teleporting a book to his hand with a snap of his fingers before he was turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Harry! Is Harry back yet?" Hermione blurted instantly upon seeing him descending the stairs, "Professor Dumbledore said he'd be back last night but he- HARRY!"

Grinning as he allowed Hermione to throw herself at him, Harry hugged her back. "Hey Hermione," he greeted happily, keeping the two of them moving, "How was your summer?"

"How was _my_ summer? How was _yours_?" his bushy-haired friend demanded, "You ran away!"

"No I didn't, the Dursleys gave me permission to leave," he corrected simply, promptly earning an unimpressed look from Hermione.

"I hardly think the Dursleys count as parental figures, meaning their permission counts for nothing," she denied, "You should have asked the Headmaster," she scolded.

"Why? He's my Headmaster, not my Dad," Harry dismissed, smiling innocently at his friend whose scowl couldn't stay on her face for long, instead making him throw an arm over her shoulder as he led her towards the door. "I needed to get away, Hermione," he added seriously, lowering his voice so it was only them, "And Professor Dumbledore wanted me locked up, so I couldn't ask him. I was fine, I was safe," he insisted as Hermione opened her mouth to argue, "I used protection every single time – that's a joke – and yes, I made sure I did my homework".

Hermione rolled her eyes at him for that, "As if I care about homework when Voldemort could have killed you at any moment," she hissed, making Harry snort in amusement.

"How could he kill me, Hermione?" he asked simply, releasing his grip on her shoulders, "When I can do this?"

And with that, Harry turned and sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, leaving Hermione standing in the common room in utter shock.

* * *

**SUMMER HOLIDAYS**

* * *

_So this is a second response to my own _'Jump'_ challenge, it's better and completely different to the first one, in that Harry actually went to Hogwarts in this one and has every intention on having some fun before taking out Voldemort, while in the first one he didn't even believe in magic._

_The Undercover Ninja definitely doesn't own Harry Potter._


	79. Cambion

"Dragons!"

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," Harry interrupted, only to be shushed as he was bundled over to the free bed within the fourth and final cubicle set up within the medical tent.

"Last year dementors. This year dragons," the Medi-Witch said in disgust, fussing over the cut that ranged from one shoulder and down across his throat to his collarbone. "What are they going to bring into this school next? Why not demons? They haven't been so stupid as to do _that_ yet! You're quite lucky, Mr Potter," she added thoughtfully as she cleaned the cut with a purple potion that stung slightly, "This is rather shallow, for a dragon-induced injury at least".

"It wasn't the dragon," Harry corrected stiffly, pushing down his rising anger as he cracked his neck, "Can I go now? I really need to speak to Professor Dumbledore now".

"Well I'm sure the Headmaster can wait," Madam Pomfrey dismissed, prodding at the cut with her wand, only to pause as Harry quickly leant back. "It's just a diagnostic charm, Mr Potter," she assured him gently, "I need to check to see if anything got in before I seal it. It's a remarkably clean cut, so it won't take long".

"It's a clean cut because it wasn't made by the dragon," Harry muttered darkly, making the woman pause to send him a suspicious look.

"What caused it then, Mr Potter?" she asked slowly, "If you seem to know for certain".

"Can't you figure it out?" Harry snapped, grimacing as Madam Pomfrey only raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "Isn't there some kind of magical scan?" he questioned hesitantly, remembering nervously how dangerous the woman could get when annoyed.

Sighing, Madam Pomfrey leaned back and muttered something under her breath, jabbing her wand at the cut both of which flared with soft green light. "This spell can be used to determine the causes of some injuries," she explained slowly, "It can be a life saver to know, as there are some charms that act like others until someone tries to heal them conventionally, to which they always react violently. One such spell, creates third degree burns on the target's body. Any decent Medi-Witch or Wizard's first reaction would be to cast a numbing charm on the victim, _that_ however, is when the spell activates fully and the victim explodes. Nasty curse that on-"

Cringing as Madam Pomfrey froze, staring at the faint ghost of a spell that hovered between the cut and her wand, Harry just sat there patiently. Now he thought about it actually, it would have been smarter to just tell her outright, since having a Medi-Witch backing him up would have been a good thing for when he went to Dumbledore.

"Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey began slowly.

"It's a severing charm," Harry confirmed bluntly, "I saw the blue flash as it hit me but not where it came from".

Madam Pomfrey stared at him for a moment before turning on her heel and flicking her wand at the curtains, making them go solid as all sound cut off from outside them. "As per the Hogwarts Charter, Mr Potter, I hope you realise I'm obliged to inform the Headmaster of this attempt on your life as soon as possible," she admitted slowly, watching him cautiously as he nodded simply. "Both of us will be required to hand over our memories of the events, do you understand thus far?" she asked formally.

"Uh, sure? I do?" Harry answered with a shrug, making Madam Pomfrey nod in approval.

Clearing her throat, Madam Pomfrey smoothed down her robes. "I, Poppy Pomfrey, Medi-Witch and Matron of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, am about to begin the in-depth scan of one, Harry James Potter's medical status following the attempt on his life on the 24th of November 1994".

Blinking in shock as Madam Pomfrey glowed for a moment, Harry could only sit perfectly still as the Medi-Witch aimed her wand at him and started chanting. Barely understanding one out of every ten of the Latin words the woman was saying, Harry's eyes flicked to the side as he watched a shadow moving at the base of the curtain, a pair of familiar shoes (and how weird was it that he could recognise those shoes by sight?) belonging to his best friend appearing and beginning to pace. The curtains seemed to shift for a moment, as if Hermione was on the other side of them trying to open them, before the solidification charm on them won out and she backed away.

Madam Pomfrey gasped suddenly, making his attention snap back to see her eyes flicking left to right rapidly, as if she were reading something only she could see. "Mr Potter," she said suddenly, the glow vanishing as she lowered her wand, "Mr Potter. What do you know of your family? Specifically your father?"

"Uh… he loved my Mum from the first time he saw her? He uh, was the Gryffindor chaser, and he was really good at transfiguration?" Harry answered hesitantly.

"No, no. Not the little things, Harry, the bigger ones," Madam Pomfrey corrected, "What did Remus – Professor Lupin that is – tell you about your father? Perhaps his reaction to discovering Mr Lupin's secret?"

"They became animagi?" was all Harry could say with a shrug, "They didn't care about it".

"Do you know why James didn't care?" the Medi-Witch pressed, making Harry shake his head. The woman seemed to cave in on herself at this, beginning to murmur to herself as she paced the small circumference of the cubicle. "I guess, it _is_ only fitting that I am the one to tell you," Madam Pomfrey mumbled, "As it was me who had to break the news to your father, what with your grandfather being out of the country when it happened".

"Madam Pomfrey?"

"Harry," the woman began slowly, "It isn't fair that your father not be here to explain everything to you. And since neither Albus nor Remus seem to have taken it upon themselves to do so, I'm afraid it falls to me".

"What falls to you?" Harry asked nervously, not even twitching as Madam Pomfrey grabbed another potion and started to dab it gently onto the shallow barely bleeding cut across his throat.

"I do not know how to begin," she confessed slowly, clearly only tending to the cut in effort to distract herself.

Harry's suggestion of "From the beginning?" only earned him an unimpressed scowl from the woman, who sighed as she poked at the cut, which healed instantly and painlessly.

"Can I be blunt?" the Medi-Witch asked hesitantly, making Harry nod cautiously.

He had no idea what Madam Pomfrey was talking about, but something told him it was bad. Why would she be reacting like this if it weren't? After all. And why was it that Professors Dumbledore and Lupin should have been the ones to tell him, not the Medi-Witch when it clearly was more her area than theirs. And maybe – just maybe – Harry felt a flicker of grief at the thought that it should have been his father who told him about whatever it was, about how he missed out of yet another of the small rituals that his friends seem to take for granted.

"You're not human".

Wait what?

Madam Pomfrey sighed and ran her hair through her grey hair, summoning a chair over to sit opposite Harry in, the woman refusing to meet his eyes. "The Potter family since their conception been the victims of a terrible blood curse, one of the reasons that blood magic in most forms is highly illegal," she explained, "If… if Remus Lupin were to have a child, that child would not be a werewolf like he is, but would have wolfish traits and tendencies instead. And then that child's child would have half of the traits and tendencies as their father, and so on so forth, until all the werewolf 'DNA' had been flushed from the family line. This particular blood curse was one common back then, which causes the 'DNA' of the victim to be passed along in it's entirety until the family line dies off".

Harry sat there numbly, staring at the Medi-Witch in horror as she took a deep breath and tried to centre herself. "What am I?" he blurted, making the woman blink at him in shock, "I may not be Hermione, Madam Pomfrey, but I have a brain. What was he?"

Madam Pomfrey stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, "You all look alike you know," she said instead, changing the subject. "It's part of the curse, actually, every Potter since the first has had the same startling resemblance. It's why you look so much like your father, who looks like his, who looks like his".

"Madam Pomfrey!" Harry interrupted, "What am I?"

"Right now? Right now you're just a normal Wizard," Madam Pomfrey assured him, "But around your sixteenth birthday you'd have started noticing some changes as your creature side started developing".

"I'm fourteen," Harry cut in, staring at her intently, "What am I?" he asked once more.

"After going through everything you have, I'm not surprised," Madam Pomfrey rambled, standing up and beginning to pace once more. "It's a self-defence mechanism," she explained, "You're in danger, so your magic searches for a way to protect you, in this case by nudging your creature side into awakening early".

"Madam Pomfrey!"

"You're a Cambion".

Harry blinked slowly, "I'm a what?"

"You're a Cambion, Harry," Madam Pomfrey repeated, "And it's not a bad thing," she reassured quickly, "Merlin was a Cambion after all, and look at what he's done for our world".

"Cambion," Harry echoed, frowning at the woman who – had it been anyone else – he would have believed to be crazy. "I- I- I _can't_ be a Cambion!" he exclaimed, pushing off the hospital bed to land on his feet, "I- I'm a good person! I don't like- like kicking puppies or eating babies or- what?" he demanded as Madam Pomfrey let out a short horrified giggle, "This isn't funny!"

"No, no, no. Of course not," Madam Pomfrey agreed as she straightened herself out, taking a deep breath before fixing amused eyes on his own, "What do you think a Cambion _is_, exactly, Harry?"

"Cambions are half-demons," Harry said slowly, "We learnt about them in Defence Against the Dark Arts".

"Well, Harry. Cambion don't kick puppies _or_ eat babies," Madam Pomfrey corrected before faltering, "Well to be perfectly fair, they _could_, just as easily as easily as myself or young Ms Granger could as it's a matter of choice. And yes," she admitted, "Cambion _are_ a breed of half-demon, but as you should have been taught in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry, the Cambion are the _only_ race of celestial beings that _don't_ have to register themselves with the Ministry of Magic, simply because unlike most celestial races they have a _human_ mentality".

"I don't," Harry began with a frown, "I don't understand".

"There's not much you need to understand," Madam Pomfrey denied, "I think you're probably over-thinking it. All that you really need to know right now, is that you are a Cambion, essentially born of a human and a Succubus. While at your age it really isn't something _too_ major, I would still like for you to meet me tonight in the hospital wing so we can discuss this further," she added, "It _may_ only influence you once you've reached such an age that your body is creating the correct sexual hormones, it will induce a slight change in you as it continues developing".

"I uh… um".

"Harry," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, suddenly cupping his cheeks and making him look up at her. "Relax. Okay? You're not about to sprout wings or start sucking people's souls out through a kiss," she assured him, "And no, neither of those are even possibilities for Succubi or their offspring," she added when panic flared up inside him. You're still Harry, okay? You're just… a little more than you were when you woke up. Okay?"

Nodding slowly, trying to wrap his head around the whole 'half-demon' idea, Harry glanced towards the curtain as cheerful purple and green sparks shot overhead. "That must be the Headmaster, your scores must be ready," Madam Pomfrey murmured, "Go on, just remember to meet with me tonight after dinner".

Nodding again, Harry started towards the curtain, raising his wand to dispel the charms on it when Madam Pomfrey spoke again. "Oh, and Harry? Do keep this to yourself," she requested softly, "It's for the best that we keep a lid on this… development… until we know more about how it will affect you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry agreed quickly, not having wanted to tell Hermione anyway. He wasn't sure he wanted his best friend to start looking up all the different Cambion and bury him in facts and figures right now. He knew she would only be trying to be helpful, but it was the last thing he needed.

* * *

**CAMBION**

* * *

_Based off my own _'Family Secrets'_ challenge, or should I say that this is what gave the challenge life, since I wanted to see what others could come up with in regards to it._

_I don't own Harry Potter._


	80. Snap

Harry James Potter swayed back and forth, the rusty chains of the swing set creaking ominously with every movement, offset only by the rumbling of distant thunder.

If one were to look at the face of young Harry, they would likely relate his expression to the approaching storm – dark and moody. And if one thought that, then they'd likely find themselves correct in their comparison, as Harry's mind indeed felt like a wild and chaotic storm to him. That was probably to be expected though, as the topic of his thoughts – the eye of the storm as it were – was a topic so dark and morbid that it was little wonder that he failed to comprehend it entirely.

Even with the way his life seemed like a constant battle, Harry Potter still couldn't understand the full concept of war.

Because, despite the way that the Ministry of Magic was denying it, there was no other word for this than war. The Dark Lord – Voldemort – had returned at the end of last year, and even though he was laying low, it didn't mean he was going to suddenly decide that instead of waging war he was going to open up a bakery instead. The mental image of Voldemort's scarlet eyes glaring hatefully from above a matching frilly apron shocked Harry through his thoughts, the raven-haired wizard shuddering as he struggled to keep his meagre dinner in his stomach where it belonged.

Flinching as thunder crashed overhead, Harry blinked up at the dark clouds in shock, having not even noticed that there was a storm forming let alone having seen it's approach. Shaking it off, he eyed the storm for a moment longer before pushing off the swing and stretching, starting his feet on the familiar path back to Privet Drive. If he didn't make it back before his obese cousin did, then Uncle Vernon was likely to 'accidentally' lock him outside in the rain again, leaving him out there for hours before his Aunt let him in so the neighbours didn't talk.

As he walked, Harry found his mind fading into the background again as he tugged his jacket off and tied it around his waist, the residual heat from the boiling summer's day still lingering despite the storm above.

It was kind of sad, actually.

The Ministry had refused to take a side in the war, stubbornly denying that there were even sides to take, as they insisted that Harry was an 'attention-seeking brat'.

Voldemort on the other hand, had made his side rather clear, what with his murder of Cedric Diggory and his constant attempts to kill Harry himself while taking over the world.

And where was the Good to balance out Voldemort's Evil?

No seriously… Where _was_ Dumbledore? He certainly wasn't answering any of Harry's letters. Whatever the Headmaster was doing to fight Voldemort he wasn't including Harry in it. Wherever Ron and Hermione were, _they_ were involved, that much Harry had managed to gleam from their quick letters before they'd stopped coming weeks ago. But despite Harry being more experienced when it came to fighting Voldemort, he was still trapped with his 'loving' family while his friends pretended he didn't exist.

And kidnapped his owl… he couldn't forget that Hedwig hadn't returned from her latest attempt to get information from his friends.

Well screw them then… and screw Dumbledore in particular. If they were going to treat him like this, then the least he could do would be to return the favour.

His vision blurring suddenly, Harry paused to lean against the wall, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. And of course, just because this summer hadn't been the absolutely best one he'd ever had, it felt like Harry was coming down with something. He kept breaking out into sweats, his hands had been itchy and red, and to make it all better there was this strange fatigue that made him want to say 'Go to Hell' to the Dursley's overwhelming list of chores and stay in bed all day.

As his vision returned, Harry pushed off the wall and started down the alleyway between Magnolia and Wisteria, flexing his stiff fingers and slowly cracking the joints. Pausing only when sharp pain lanced through his hand, Harry let out a dark hiss as he gently massaged the back of his hand, cautiously wiggling his fingers in fear that the pain would return again. It was only when he managed to stretch both hands without feeling another stabbing pain that Harry relaxed, part of him wondering if he should find a way to contact Madam Pomfrey just in case. Still wiggling his fingers tenderly, Harry rolled his shoulders before turning his hand palm up, pausing for a moment before snapping his fingers.

A sharp jolt – like electricity – shot down his arm into his hand.

And the damp newspaper he could see on the ground beyond his fingers burst into flames.

Mouth open in shock, Harry looked between his fingers and the burning newspaper in horror, wishing he could deny the way he'd felt that spark upon snapping his fingers that had _definitely_ ignited the newspaper. Carefully raising his hand, he sent it a nervous look, wiggling his fingers hesitantly as if any movement could set something else on fire – which as far as he knew, it could. When nothing happened, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, before steeling himself and pointing his hand at a random piece of rubbish littering the alleyway.

_Snap_

A nervous laugh fell from Harry's lips as the foam cup shuddered before bursting into flames as well, the fifteen year old taking aim at some more rubbish before snapping again, a faint grin tugging at his lips as it too ignited.

"This is _wicked_," he exhaled slowly, watching as a plastic bag burst into flames upon a snap of his finger. "Absolutely mad," he admitted with a small shrug as he set something else alight, "But wicked".

How in Merlin's name was he doing that? It was like no type of magic he'd ever heard of before. And to be perfectly honest, even though Harry wasn't able to sense his own magic within him as strongly as some of the others in his year, he just knew that the little jolt of electricity he felt _wasn't_ magic. But if it wasn't magic what was it? It most certainly wasn't a _muggle_ thing, to be able to start fires with a snap of one's fingers. And if it wasn't magic, and it wasn't muggle, then what _was _it?

It was natural… Harry didn't know how he knew, but he knew it felt natural, like he was supposed to be able to do it. For a moment, he wondered if Ron or Hermione had ever heard of it, before remembering that it wasn't exactly like they'd answer him even if he did ask.

Feeling his good mood going down the drain rapidly, Harry didn't hesitate to snap his fingers, a wide grin splitting his face as he watched a ruined flier ignite. "Awesome," he murmured to himself, "Totally awesome".

The sound of footsteps made him stiffen, quickly shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stomped on the smoking paper. Turning to face the source of the footsteps, Harry felt his mood plummeting again as the hulking silhouette of his cousin shambled into the mouth of the alleyway, making him fight the urge to gag at the sight of Dudley gnawing on the king-sized bar of chocolate clutched in his fatty fist.

Resisting the desire to twitch as he felt a bead of cold sweat running down the back of his neck, Harry instead straightened his back and shoulders, knowing he couldn't show any weakness in front of his prison-bound cousin. "What's up Big D?" Harry asked innocently, watching as his cousin froze and stared at him in a mix of fear and disgust, "Beat up another ten year old for that?"

"This one deserved it," Dudley spat, coming to a stop just outside of arm's reach from Harry. "He cheeked me, he did".

"Really?" Harry drawled slowly, faking surprise. "Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk? Cause that's not cheek, Duddykins, that's an understatement," he taunted smugly.

As his cousin's fleshy jaw twitched and his face flushed in anger, Harry just grinned at him. While he couldn't draw his wand on Dudley, he could always relieve stress by insulting his cousin, since the fat boy was too slow to catch the youngest Seeker in a century.

"Think you're a big man carrying that _thing_ do you?" Dudley sneered angrily. "Don't have the guts to take me on without it do you?"

"As opposed to you," Harry countered, nodding at Dudley's stomach, "You're pretty much all gut, aren't you? And to be fair." he added as a thought struck him, making him pull his hands from his pocket and open them, showing his cousin they were empty. "I don't need my wand to be twice the man you are… whereas you're just the size of two men".

Not bothering to hide his grin as Dudley glared at him, Harry just tilted his head slowly, "In fact… I bet I could do whatever I wanted to you, and uh 'my kind', they wouldn't do a thing to stop me," he lied casually. He hadn't seen a single feather, let alone an entire owl since he first started setting things on fire, something that only cemented the fact that it wasn't magic he was using. And if it wasn't magic, that meant that Harry could use it as much as he wanted without getting expelled for it, all the while he would claim that it _was_ magic to his 'family' who wouldn't know better.

"N- No you couldn't," Dudley stuttered, "You wouldn't dare".

"Wouldn't I?" Harry asked innocently, raising his hand and preparing to snap it, "Why not? It would only be fair, it'd be kind, in fact. I could help you burn off that extra weight you've been carrying around". As Dudley paled, Harry pulled his hand back and clucked his tongue, barking out a laugh as the lights went out at that precise moment, a loud _thud_ echoing through the alleyway as Dudley hit the ground in a dead faint.

Shaking his head as he laughed, Harry sighed and lowered his hand, watching his cousin for a moment before sighing once more. "It feels like I'm torturing a puppy or something," he said to himself as he eyed Dudley's unconscious form, a flicker of guilt rising up in his chest before he ruthlessly pushed it back down. Just because _he_ had known he'd never actually set his cousin on fire, didn't mean Dudley had known that, and now he felt like an utter jerk for scaring his cousin so badly that he fainted.

Looking around at the street-lamps at either end of the alleyway, Harry couldn't help but chuckle again. He couldn't deny that it was perfect timing though, even if he wasn't so sure about _why_ they'd gone off, it definitely hadn't been him. He couldn't feel his magic within him, nor had he felt the spark of his fire-power thing. Rubbing his chest as a feeling of sudden cold stabbed into it, Harry quickly pulled his jacket back on, groaning as the cold reached deeper than he'd ever imagined it could after such a hot day.

Shaking his head again as something whispered at the back of his mind, like a voice at the edge of his hearing, Harry used his foot to kick some rubbish into a pile closer to Dudley. He couldn't leave his cousin here, and he already knew that trying to wake the sleeping whale was an impossible task, so the best he could do was make sure they both didn't freeze.

_Snap_

Frowning for a moment, looking between his hand and the pile of rubbish, Harry snapped his fingers again – and again… and again… and again. Annoyance flaring through him at the sixth snap, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief as the spark – sparked – again and the rubbish _finally_ caught fire.

Anger then? Anger was the trigger? He could do that, he'd been so angry lately that it was no wonder this power of his had manifested now.

Reaching numbing hands out to the weakly crackling fire, Harry shivered and rubbed them together. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut, even with the storm brewing above his head there was no way that this level of cold was natu- _ice_.

Watching as his breath crystallized in front of him, the faint light shimmering across the surface of ice crawling across the wall towards him, Harry slowly stood and backed away from his cousin. Surrendering to the urge to draw his wand, he shifted it across to his left hand as he looked up and down the alleyway, raising his right hand to aim it in the direction of one of the dark figures at either end.

Suddenly glad that Dudley was still unconscious as the two dementors started forward, boxing them both in the alleyway, Harry quickly changed tracks mentally and instead thought about the years of abuse he'd suffered at his cousin's hands. He thought of Peter Pettigrew, about how the rat betrayed his parents and then got to live the pampered life as a family pet afterwards. He thought of Cedric's death, about how unfair it was for the seventeen year old, about how he had died so young. He thought of the betrayal of his friends, of how they had turned on him so easily like they had done. He thought of the Ministry, of their constant claims of insanity, despite the fact he was willing to prove it once and for all.

And then he thought of home – of Hogwarts – of the castle he'd never see again if the dementors kissed him.

_Snap._

* * *

**_SNAP_**

* * *

_So this idea was written out entirely on pen and paper - quite an unusual thing for me - and I'm posting it now before I head off to work since I won't have access to a computer for the rest of the day :(_

_I don't own Harry Potter._


	81. Paws

**PAWS**

* * *

"_Lord is it?" the old man asked slowly, turning his nose up in disgust, "Well then, I don't think much of your manners, my Lord. Turn around and face me, like a man why don't you?"_

"_Ah…" the 'Lord' said coldly, his words barely audible through the slurred hiss to his voice. "But I am no man, Muggle," he corrected, the old man shifting slowly on his feet suspiciously, "However… why not? I will face you. Wormtail"._

_As the nervous rather plump man staggered forward, foot scuffing at the rug and pulling an angry hiss from the snake basking before the fire, the rat-faced man quickly began to turn the high-backed chair around to face the old man._

"_Do you see, oh foolish Muggle?" the _thing_ in the chair asked smugly, scarlet eyes boring deep into the old man's soul. "I am much, much more than a man. And soon, I will be a _God_!"_

_As his walking stick fell to the ground, slipping through his suddenly limp fingers, the old man could only watch in horror as a long twig was raised in the creature's hands and a flash of green light exploded from the tip. Light burning in an afterimage in his eyes, a strange rushing sound in his ears, and a sharp stabbing cold in his chest._

_Frank Bryce was dead before he even hit the floor._

And around two hundred miles away, a boy woke with a start, a screamed "No!" trapped within his throat. Moving on some sort of primal instinct, Harry Potter struggled in sheer panic, fighting to free himself from whatever it was pinning his arms to his sides as white-hot pain burned his head – only feeding the panic he felt.

The world around him was dark, unfocused, and try for the life of him Harry couldn't see anything beyond the sight of the dead old man nearing as he slithered like a snake across the floor towards his body. His arms trapped at his sides, Harry thrashed about trying to get free, a startled noise fleeing his throat as he rocked and began to fall when whatever he was lying on just vanished.

His body twisted and warped, the world growing as if he were shrinking.

But then his arms and legs were free of their bindings and he was off, scrambling across the floor and – following instincts he thought he'd grown out of by now – diving under his bed with a strangled sob.

He couldn't see it. He couldn't see the snake slowly devouring the old man. He couldn't see what he wished was a dream but was so clearly more. He couldn't. His limbs trembling with exhaustion, Harry just shook his head, unwilling to allow himself to fall back asleep in fear he'd dream of the man's death once more. As he eventually collapsed onto his stomach and curled up, the image of the man dying in a flash of green light and the sound of cruel laughter faded from his mind. He didn't want to remember, but he knew he would.

And it was with that morbid realization – that he'd seen his first death at the age of fourteen – that Harry's eyes drifted shut against his will and he passed out. Flashes of green haunting his nightmares.

* * *

It was to his Aunt's loud shriek that Harry awoke the next morning.

Sleepily struggling to get his feet under him, he stood and promptly let out a rather concerning _ep_-ing noise when his head struck something he was fairly certain wasn't supposed to be there.

His Aunt's voice ringing shrilly in his ears, Harry absently recognised he'd somehow crawled beneath his bed in the night. You could take the boy out of the cupboard, but you couldn't take the cupboard out of the boy it seemed, what with Harry's instinctive seeking out of a cramped dark place.

The dream… nightmare… vision…

Something cold gripped at his stomach as he remembered the reason for his apparent regression, green light the same colour as his eyes flashing through his mind. The dull _thud_ of the old man – for there had definitely been an old man – as his body hit the ground limply. The feeling of the wood against his scales as the snake moved towards its next meal.

What did he do? Did he contact the Aurors to go check out the property? No… even if he knew where it was it wouldn't help anyone, the body was long gone and if he was right in his fears then the Auror's bodies would be soon in joining it. Did he tell Dumbledore? Dumbledore _was_ the only one Voldemort ever feared after all, and Harry was sure to recognise the Dark Lord's voice anywhere after their meeting during his first year at Hogwarts. He could imagine telling his friends, they'd both tell him to tell Dumbledore while they looked something up themselves.

But then…

But then what would he tell Dumbledore? He could imagine it now…

'_Dear Professor Dumbledore. Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning and I had a funny dream last night. Yours sincerely, Paws'_.

Wait… paws?

PAWS?

Said paws sliding out from beneath him as Harry jerked back in shock, the ground flew up to meet him as all four of them went in different directions, a muffled yelp escaping his muzzle – _his muzzle_ – as he hit the floor and started flailing once again.

Why did he have paws?

_How_ did he have paws?

And how the bloody hell did he control the paws?

Mind filling with panic again as he somehow managed to get all four fe- paws underneath him, Harry slowly and hesitantly rose to his full non-human height. He had paws, and if he concentrated he could see a muzzle stretching out in front of his eyes. Shifting on his fe- er, paws – again, Harry carefully turned his head to stare down his fur-covered body at the tail held limply tucked up between his legs.

Okay, okay.

Struggling to calm his rapid breathing, Harry tried to take a Hermione-esque approach to his current situation. What did he know? And how did he know it? Merlin he wished he had hands to write this all down with!

He was a dog… a wolf… he was a canine. He knew _that_ at least.

He also knew that people turning into animals wasn't impossible. There was both wizard-to-animal transfiguration, and the animagus transformation. His godfather Sirius had completed the animagus transformation, and he's witnessed Professor McGonagall performing both wizard-to-animal transfiguration _and_ the animagus transformation before.

Those two possibilities meant that either someone had snuck into his room in the middle of the night to turn him into a dog-wolf-thing, or that somehow… could the stress of the dream he'd had have somehow triggered the animagus transformation?

Neither of those options sounded particularly good enough to Harry, but in all fairness it wasn't like he was Hermione. And it wasn't like he could send Hermione a letter about it either, it was hard enough to stand on four paws let alone try write with them. Besides, Hedwig had gone out to hunt last night and seemingly hadn't returned yet, so that option wasn't available until she came back.

"BOY!"

Harry whined deep in his throat as his Aunt screamed through the door at him, his hearing feeling like it had tripled in strength.

"I SAID 'BREAKFAST'S READY'! IF DUDLEY EATS YOUR FOOD THEN YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANYMORE!"

Oh right… breakfast. If one could even call what was doubtlessly waiting on his plate 'breakfast'. At least once upon a time he was given soup, or microwave porridge, even buttered toast. Now however, to accommodate Dudley's forced diet, he'd be lucky if he was given half an apple for breakfast. At least he'd have a proper lunch to look forward to, and by a 'proper' lunch he meant he'd sent emergency SOS letters to his friends who'd responded remarkably quickly with shrunken packages of sweets and pastries. (And Hagrid's rock cakes, but Harry figured he'd save those until he was absolutely starving).

Turning to head towards the door, Harry promptly tripped over himself, hitting the floor with another of the strange yipping noises. How in Merlin's name did Sirius deal with having four feet? Or the tail? Harry founding himself adding as he stood up and fell again, his tail leaning his entire body over to the right.

For a moment he thought of sending his godfather a letter the moment he turned back. It would serve dual purposes after all, he'd be able to tell someone he trusted (sorry Professor Dumbledore) about the dream he'd had, as well as get some advice on the whole 'walking on four legs' thing. That was of course, assuming that Harry could even turn back, or that if he did that he'd even be _able_ to turn into this canine form again.

Finally managing to get back to his feet, Harry shot his bedroom door a look for a moment before letting out a loud doggy sigh. It wasn't like he'd be missing much if Dudley ate his breakfast, and he could quite easily just feed himself with some of the food stored beneath the loose floorboard. Besides, even if he _managed_ to open the door and get downstairs in time, there was the small matter of him being stuck in the body of a rudding _dog_! If Petunia didn't chase him from the house screaming, then he still wouldn't be able to eat breakfast in the first place would he? Did dogs even eat fruit? He'd only ever seen Fang, Hagrid's dog, eating bloodied meat and the chocolate he and Ron had slipped him when Hagrid and Hermione weren't looking.

Sighing again as he realised that he probably couldn't transform back without knowing how he'd transformed in the first place, Harry raised a hand to comb it through his hair, pausing to scratch at a spot on the back of his neck. "This really sucks, Hedwig," he murmured to himself quietly, conveniently pretending that his first ever friend was in the room with him, "Being an animagus _is_ cool, I'd wanted to ask Sirius about it anyway. But this? I don't know what this is".

Pushing the breath from his lungs as he poked at his blankets with his foot, it took Harry a lot longer than he was willing to admit to realise that he was staring down past his naked _human_ body at his feet. Jumping slightly as he quickly patted himself down, Harry froze for a moment as he heard footsteps downstairs, scrambling to throw on yesterday's clothes before rushing downstairs.

"I told you that if Dudley eats your breakfast that you weren't getting anymore," came his Aunt's smug greeting as he barrelled into the kitchen.

"And I'm sure you told Dudley that he could eat my breakfast before you even came up to tell me it was served," Harry shot back rudely, having had enough of his Aunt's attempts to ruin his day before it had even begun. Yesterday she had 'accidentally' crushed his orange when she picked it up, and the day before she'd mushed his banana up before she'd 'forgotten how big he'd gotten'. "I'm having dinner now," he added as his Aunt half-stared and half-glared at him, "I won't eat for the rest of the day but I'm having dinner now".

"Fine," Petunia agreed in a huff as Harry moved on automatic and started snatching fruit from the well-stocked bowl on the bench. "But don't you come running to me later whinging about how hungry you are. If you do then I won't hear it," she declared.

"I won't," was all Harry said in response, more interested in stockpiling some food so he could remain in his room all day trying to figure out the transformation.

"Good. Because I won't hear it," Petunia countered, sounding a little hesitant.

"Alright then".

"I won't let you take more than your fair share of food from this house," Petunia continued loudly, "You won't be getting _two_ dinners".

At that Harry paused, slowly turning to face his Aunt and tilting his head in confusion. Was she trying to tell him something? She wasn't normally so dense, that was something she reserved for Dudley. Shrugging it off, since he didn't really care about his family on a good day, Harry turned back to grab an extra banana before smiling at the stiff-looking woman.

"I think this will be a lovely dinner don't you?" he asked the woman who was pretending to ignore him, watching him from the corner of his eye. "I'll be spending the rest of the day in my room okay?" Harry added, pulling a disinterested noise from his Aunt.

Shrugging again when it became obvious she wasn't going to reply, Harry headed towards the door, only for his Aunt's voice to ring out behind him. "I do hope you haven't lost your glasses again boy. Vernon and I can't afford to buy you new ones _and_ pay for you to go to that freak school of yours".

Blinking slowly in confusion, because the money to pay for Hogwarts came from his parent's vault, Harry glanced over at the woman who was daintily reading one of her girly magazines before slowly beginning to make his way towards the staircase.

Something was seriously wrong in this house, he just didn't care enough to figure it out.

Reaching the staircase in time for his Uncle to stomp into the house, his face a vivid red, Harry bit back a groan as Vernon's fury-filled eyes locked onto his. "What the ruddy hell is _this_?" his Uncle demanded as he slammed the door in the chuckling mailman's face, "It's a letter! About you!" the large man answered for himself.

Faltering as he realised both his arms were full, Harry looked around for a place to dump the fruit before having a better idea. Reaching forward, he caught the letter his Uncle was waving about between his teeth and easily tugged it out of the yelping man's grasp. Making what he hoped was a thankful noise, he turned and started up the stairs, not stopping again until he was tipping his breakfast/dinner onto his bed. Kicking the door shut, Harry tore open the stamp-covered envelope with a snort, glancing over the letter as he grabbed a piece of fruit at random and bit into it.

The Quidditch World Cup was next week? Sweet, he'd almost forgotten about that. And the tickets were prime ones too, could that mean a box seat or something?

So, he'd write the letter to the Weasleys instead of Sirius. And should he find himself still transforming back and forth – because something told him it wasn't over – then he could just ask the Weasleys, who knew more about magic than Harry ever could. Although… perhaps he should still write to Sirius… just in case.

Chucking the letter onto his desk, Harry went to take another bite of fruit, freezing as he realised what he was eating. Licking his lips awkwardly, he probed around in his mouth for the orange peels, before grimacing as he realised he must have eaten the peel as well without even noticing.

This dog-wolf-thing was affecting him more than he thought.

* * *

**PAWS**

* * *

_Based off my own _"The Potter Zoo" _challenge._


	82. Changeling

**CHANGELING**

* * *

When Harry James Potter pushed open the portrait to Gryffindor Tower and came face-to-face with one Hermione Granger, he felt like he could burst into tears.

And not just because of the toast she was holding in her hands, but because of the steely look in her eyes that promised trouble.

Not trouble for him though (for once), this look was the same one she'd had on her face the day she'd figured out Slytherin's monster was a basilisk. This was the same look she'd had on her face when she'd researched ways to defeat dementors before sending him after Professor Lupin for the patronus charm. This was the same look she'd have on her face when she found him a way to get out of doing this blasted Tournament.

"I love you," he said in way of greeting as he accepted the toast from a smirking Hermione.

"Oh hush, you," his bushy-haired best friend said dismissively, "You might get a girl's hopes up talking like that".

Following her automatically as she started down the corridor, Harry groaned as he took a bite of the toast. Plum jam, the perfect amount too, his favourite. Sometimes he felt he didn't deserve a friend like Hermione.

"I thought you might want to go for a walk," she admitted as they reached the Grand Staircase, "Perhaps avoid going to the Great Hall entirely, you can't imagine the way everyone was hanging on my every movement, it was as if they thought I was hiding you under my robes or something". Faltering mid-step, she sent Harry a look from the corner of her eye, "Although I guess you're used to being stared at like that," she added softly, making Harry grunt in agreement – not willing to risk talking with his mouth full when Hermione was clearly in one of her moods.

"It'll only get worse now, I suppose," he muttered unhappily when he'd swallowed, "Half of Gryffindor think I cheated to put my name in, and the other half _also_ think I cheated to put my name in but don't care since I'm 'representing Gryffindor'".

"Well, Hufflepuff seem to pretty much agree on how much they hate you?" Hermione offered slowly, the two of them pausing to chuckle. "Half of Ravenclaw look like they're siding with Hufflepuff, while a quarter of those remaining just want the Boy-Who-Lived to win".

"What about the remaining quarter?" Harry asked when he'd finished doing the math.

"They don't even know the Tournament is happening," Hermione said dryly, "They haven't taken their noses out of their books since the school year began. Bastards," she added under her breath, "Taking my books. There's some good news though," she remembered suddenly, beaming at Harry, "Slytherin still hates you".

A laugh shocking its way out of his throat, Harry didn't bother to try fight it as he and Hermione stepped out into the chilly morning air. "Oh Merlin… I needed that," he confessed when he and Hermione had finally stopped laughing, his friend kindly pretending not to have heard the slightly hysterical note to his laughter, "After last night I…"

"Tell me about it," Hermione instructed as they headed towards the lake, "Tell me everything that happened from when you left Gryffindor table to when you met me outside the Tower".

So Harry did.

He told her about how he was being forced to compete due to the 'contract'.

He told her about how Professor Moody suspected it was an attempt on his life.

He told her about how Ron had turned on him, accusing him of betraying his friends and family for fame.

And he told her about how he really _really_ hated the magical world at the moment, and that sometimes he felt like he should have never left the Dursleys.

(Hermione slapped him for that last comment, of course, muttering something about industrial strength bleach and something called 'orcinus orca' – which Harry feared was some kind of dark hex or something).

Other than slapping him however, Hermione just accepted the rest of his story without question, nodding absently as Harry watched the gears in her head already begin turning. "Professor Moody might be right, Harry," she admitted hesitantly, "I don't believe any student could have fooled the Goblet into believing there were four schools like that. I mean Dumbledore's age line was laughable. Seriously Harry," she added when Harry frowned, "It's a joke, I came up with half a dozen ways to beat it in just thirty minutes. I think we can forget about the age line, but the fact that the Goblet of Fire, an ancient magical artefact was tricked is important".

"Whatever you say," Harry agreed simply, shrugging at her as she fixed a suspicious look on him. "The only way I could think of to beat the Goblet would be to throw your name in, but I figured that wouldn't work," he confessed.

"It does," Hermione corrected, "I tried it. Of course, I accidentally threw in the piece of parchment I had written down a source book for Ancient Runes, so I was sufficiently punished by my attempt at cheating and didn't try again. Okay I did," she admitted as Harry's eyebrow just rose, "You could have also levitated your name in, it worked on my timetable".

"And your punishment for cheating then was that you had to go ask for a new copy then?" Harry asked innocently, faltering at Hermione's dark look.

"I memorised my timetable weeks ago," she said with a sniff, throwing her hair over her shoulder and speeding up. "Besides," she added, only for whatever she was going to say being cut off by a high-pitched squeal as something large and black swooped past her head.

"Uh… hi?" Harry blurted, staring at the large falcon perching on his rapidly raised forearm, "Can I help you?"

The falcon just glared at him in response, forcing a hiss of pain from his lips as its talons tightened around his arm and drew blood.

"Harry? It's… it's got a letter," Hermione pointed out, his bushy-haired friend having put a lot of distance between herself and the falcon she was eyeing in open terror.

Reaching out nervously, Harry carefully began to untie the letter, the falcon watching him with unrestrained hostility as if just waiting for him to make the wrong move. Grunting as a wing hit him in the face as the bird of prey took off suddenly, he waited until he was sure it was gone before swooping down to pick up the letter he'd dropped, shaking off the dirt as he frowned down at the familiar seal on the front beside his elegantly written name.

"It's from Gringotts?" Hermione whispered curiously, the two of them looking around for Ron on automatic. They'd both learned years ago not to open Gringotts mail around their less-wealthy friend, he always insisted on reading the letter as well ("If Hermione gets to then so do I") and he _always_ threw a tantrum when he saw the general total at the bottom of the parchment. "Why would Gringotts be sending you a letter?"

"Maybe it's about Mum and Dad's place in Godric's Hollow?" he suggested carefully, neither of them making any move to open it, "The Goblins said they were going to try force the Ministry to either buy it or remove its memorial status".

"Well open it and find out," Hermione insisted, the two of them staring at each other for a moment before Harry was sighing and gently obeying.

Something told him, deep in his gut, that he wasn't going to like what this letter was going to tell him. Unfortunately however, he'd learned a long time ago that he didn't have the choice to just chuck it into his trunk and ignore it, if he did then he'd just get blindsided by whatever the letter was about. That'd what had happened to him back in third year after all, if he'd just read that letter straight away then he would have been able prevent Mrs Weasley from helping herself to his money.

Okay, that wasn't being fair. He _had_ asked her about getting a book from Flourish and Bott's during the school year, that she'd gone to Diagon Alley to buy it for him after getting the money out of his vault wasn't her fault. She'd even made sure to send Harry the change _and_ his vault key with the book.

"_Dear Mister Harry James Potter_," he began slowly, backing up to lean against a tree as Hermione began pacing before the lake. "_This letter is just to confirm your entry into the Triwizard Tournament on the 31__st__ of October_".

"Well great," Hermione mused when Harry paused, "It's not official until its Goblin official. Keep reading".

"_Despite the obvious foul play in regards to your name being entered while both underage and under a fourth non-existent school, the contracts submitted by the Ministry of Magic do not contain a withdrawal clause applicable for yourself_"

"So there _are_ withdrawal clauses then at least," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh wait, it gets better," Harry countered, "You should see what they've put in brackets". Clearing his throat as Hermione looked at him expectantly, he adjusted his glasses and read out "_Unless, of course, you are either pregnant or a particularly large dwarf_".

"I don't think we could get away with claiming you're a dwarf," Hermione dismissed automatically, apparently not seeing the humour in it.

"_We at Gringotts are happy to announce however, that under Clause 44.C for orphaned contestants you have hereby been declared an emancipated adult_," Harry finished, looking up at Hermione in surprise, his friend returning the look with owl-like eyes. "_To finalise your emancipation you are required to present yourself at Gringotts at your earliest convenience to sign the forms personally and have the required meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Children and Guardianship_".

"So it doesn't matter then, the Ministry will never allow you to – Harry? Harry?"

Only able to make a squeaking noise in response, Harry just limply thrust the letter into Hermione's hands, the next paragraph shocking the words from his lungs as his legs collapsed beneath him. "Read it," he croaked out, raising shaking hands to run them through his hair.

"From where? The meeting?" Hermione questioned, "_To finalise your emancipation you are required to present yourself at Gringotts at your earliest convenience to sign the forms personally and have the required meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Children and Guardianship_. _After these criteria have been met, you will be required to formally declare your name to the Ministry, whether you will continue using your given name of 'Harry James Potter' or your birth name of_\- Oh Harry".

"I'm adopted," he blurted, blinking up at her dumbly, "How can I be adopted? I look just like Dad, but with Mum's eyes".

Dropping down onto the dirt beside him, Hermione didn't respond straight away, choosing instead to squint at the letter as if it would change and reveal they'd misread it. "Maybe… maybe there are long-term glamours? Or some kind of potion or charm that makes you look like your adoptive parents?"

"But I'm not adopted!" Harry yelled, shoving himself to his feet and taking up Hermione's past pattern of pacing. "I… I _can't_ be! Why didn't anyone tell me?" he demanded, turning to stare at his friend, "Why didn't Sirius tell me? Or Remus? They both had the chance to last year!"

"Please stop yelling at me Harry," Hermione snapped coldly, "This isn't my fault. We'll figure it out, we always do. You just need to remain calm".

"Calm? How can I be calm?" he countered, "I'm not even 'Harry'! Instead I'm some… some… what was my name again?"

"Oh," Hermione blurted, squinting down at the letter again, "Apparently your birth name is 'Perseus Jackson', after the Greek Hero, I'd presume".

* * *

**CHANGELING**

* * *

_This story is based off my own _"Changeling"_ challenge, I'm not entirely sure what brought it about, but it happened and I'm actually rather proud of it. And, the awesome thing about this particular chapter, is that the last sentence can be swapped out for any other name if Perseus Jackson isn't exactly your thing!_


	83. The Sorcerer

**THE SORCERER**

* * *

"No, Harry, the meeting's only for members of the Order," Molly Weasley corrected, shaking her head as her fingers curled around his arm.

"Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meetings over," Mrs Weasley continued, trying to drag Harry towards the staircase and forcing the raven-haired wizard to dig his heels in response. "Afterwards we can all have dinner together. Oh, and keep your voice down in the halls," she added in a whisper, glancing around nervously.

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up," came Mrs Weasley's lacking answer, as she once again tried to pull Harry towards the stairs, frustration radiating from her like heat from a fire.

Instead Harry just frowned as he tugged his arm free of the large woman, eyes narrowing as he stepped out of her reach. "What d'you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'll explain later," Mrs Weasley dismissed, scowling at him as she tried to grab his arm again. "I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be in the meeting – I'll just show you where you're sleeping first".

"There won't be any need for that, Molly," a voice said from the doorway. "I'll be taking young Harry into the study," Albus Dumbledore explained, his eyes locked on the glaring Mrs Weasley. "I believe it's time he and I had a long-awaited talk".

"I think _not_!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed angrily, rage emanating from her entire being. "He is just a _child_! I will not have him involved in any of this!" she declared dangerously, jabbing a finger in Dumbledore's direction.

"I think I got involved in 'all this' when Voldemort tried to kill me the first time," Harry interrupted quietly, forcing a polite smile onto his face as Mrs Weasley whirled around to lock her glare on him instead. "And that's not including the times where I was eleven, twelve or fourteen that he tried to kill me again either".

"I'm not going to induct Harry to the Order," Dumbledore said gently, stepping into the conversation as Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to speak, "But should I decide to, I would like for you to remember who runs it," he reminded as his eyes flashed in warning. "Harry is not only uniquely qualified to be a member of the Order, but he remains to this day the only person to duel against Voldemort and win, a feat not even _I_ can claim".

At this, Mrs Weasley drew herself up and took a deep breath, her face going bright red in true Weasley fashion as she prepared to start shrieking. "With me, please, Harry," Dumbledore requested calmly, cutting off what was sure to be a migraine-inducing howler impersonation, "This is a conversation best held in private".

With that the Headmaster was turning on the spot and leading Harry through the dark house, leaving the young wizard unable to resist the childish urge to smirk at Mrs Weasley over his shoulder and send her a crude hand gesture he'd seen various muggle kids using. As the plump woman started spluttering, Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore, struggling to calm himself down so he didn't lose his temper.

Bad things happened when he lost his temper, bad things indeed.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore began as they stepped into a warm room, the crackling fire in the fireplace casting eerie shadows on the walls. "I do believe I need to apologise for how things have ended up, it was not my intention to make you feel cut off or unwanted," the Headmaster confessed as he sat down in an armchair and gestured for Harry to sit opposite him. "I was unaware that Ms Granger and Mr Weasley had misinterpreted my request for silence, I had merely wished for them to not speak of the Order".

"What _is_ the Order?" Harry demanded as Dumbledore paused to conjure some tea, remaining standing behind the armchair he'd been directed into. "And what do you mean they misinterpreted it? They didn't send me _any_ letters".

"Exactly," Dumbledore agreed sadly, "They thought I meant total silence. I only discovered this two days ago when I approached them to see how you were faring and they confessed they hadn't written to you at all".

When Dumbledore stopped speaking, leaving Harry waiting expectantly, the dark-haired boy just narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster expectantly. "And the Order?" he pressed rudely, faltering as he felt his hands beginning to prickle with heat.

"A discussion for _after_ dinner tonight," Dumbledore corrected, raising a hand quickly as Harry growled. "I said after dinner, not never. We do not have the time to go over the Order at the present, as the others are waiting on me for the meeting to begin".

"So what?" Harry blurted angrily, "You dragged me in here to say sorry for leaving me alone all holidays? For cutting me off from all communication?"

"No, Harry, I 'dragged you' in here to look at your scar," Dumbledore admitted bluntly, making Harry blink in shock as the heat fled his hands. "Arabella – Mrs Figg that is – told me your scar was bleeding 'black gunk' after your little run in with the dementors. May I?"

Eyeing Dumbledore hesitantly for a moment, Harry just nodded, reaching up to move his fringe out of the way so the standing man could inspect it properly. "It's faded," he mumbled as Dumbledore poked at his scar with his wand, "After the dementor tried to kiss me it just burst open, all this black tar was pouring out, then I uh-"

"Destroyed the dementors?" Dumbledore finished as Harry trailed off, "Mrs Figg told me about that too," he explained. "And if my suspicions are correct, then I may have an idea of why and how this is happening".

"How, Sir?" Harry asked hopefully, feeling his anger fading quickly at the promise of finally getting some answers. It was funny actually, he'd spent all summer brooding and sulking, promising himself to be furious when he was finally included in whatever his friends had been doing. Yet now he was here, and all he felt was this cold anger and hope.

"Your mother," was Dumbledore's cryptic reply.

"It wasn't her protection," Harry interrupted quickly, stepping away from the Headmaster and moving over to the fire, beginning to pace back and forth in front of it. "I know what Mum's protection feels like, and this wasn't it. This was me, I felt the power coming from _me_," he explained impatiently.

"Tell me more," Dumbledore requested, knowing eyes locked on Harry's, "What else can you feel?"

"I can feel that you enjoy being a cryptic bastard," Harry spat, glaring at the Headmaster who just twinkled in response. "I can feel that Mrs Weasley was furious at me for shooting her down, and I can feel how angry and hurt _you_ were at her when she argued".

"And when you destroyed the dementors?" the old man pressed eagerly.

Harry just shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dropping to the floor as his previous anger fled, "It's stupid," he dismissed.

"Try me".

Allowing himself to feel shocked by Dumbledore's modern 'slang', Harry blinked at the man before the topic caught back up to him and his head dropped again. "I felt Mum," he confessed, "It was like she was right there, holding me, and then I touched the dementor and..."

"And it screamed in pain before exploding," Dumbledore finished, "Arabella allowed me to view her memory of the event," he admitted as Harry's head snapped up to stare at him. "While seeing it was one thing, I needed to understand it from your point of view to be entirely certain".

"Certain of what?" Harry demanded, stepping forward and concentrating on the Headmaster, eye twitching when he failed to pick up any feelings from the old man.

"Your mother," Dumbledore said simply, "I've had my suspicions before now, of course. All the signs were there after all, but perhaps I wasn't willing to see them until now. I blame myself of course, if I hadn't been so obsessed with seeing you as the Chosen One and had just looked a little more at Harry Potter then perhaps I would have caught this sooner. No-one else could get into as much trouble as you, and I truly doubt that even your father's influence would be enough to make you _this_ troublesome. No, there was only one option, something you've confirmed for me tonight".

"Sir?"

Dumbledore blinked before looking up at him as if he'd forgotten Harry was even there. "Sit down, please Harry, I think it's time that I treated you as the young man you've become," he said suddenly, making Harry blink with the shock of the complete change of heart from the Headmaster.

"Does that mean you'll tell me the truth?" Harry questioned slowly, focusing on the Headmaster as much as he could.

"I swear to tell you the truth and nothing but the truth," Dumbledore promised, Harry inhaling sharply as the wall around the Headmaster's emotions collapsed and nothing but brutal honesty washed over him. "Do you know what this is, Harry?" the man asked, reaching out to tap his wand on the black dome covering most of the table, making it melt away as if liquid to reveal a familiar glowing bowl on the coffee table.

"It's a pensieve, Sir," came Harry's reply, remembering the one he'd seen in Dumbledore's office vividly.

"Ah yes, I had forgotten about last year," the Headmaster murmured to himself, amusement filling the air between them, "Which is ironic in itself, considering the purpose for which these were created. Preserving memories, that is".

Harry could only watch curiously as the Dumbledore pulled two vials containing a beautiful swirling silver liquid out from the many pockets of his purple and green robes. "And these, Harry?" the old man asked patiently, holding them up for the black-haired wizard to inspect.

"Memories?"

"Correct," Dumbledore praised, "But I think it is whom these memories belong to, that is the most important thing of all".

"Sir?" Harry questioned curiously as he watched Dumbledore reaching into his pocket to pull out another memory vial.

"I was not sure about this," Dumbledore admitted, "I had my suspicions as I've said, but it wasn't until I spoke to Sirius that it was proven I was correct. Your Godfather directed me to these, buried in the depths of the vault of belongings taken from your parent's home at Gringotts".

"There's a vault there?" Harry blurted, "Can… can I go there? Not now," he corrected quickly, "But soon?"

"Of course, I must admit I never thought to tell you of it myself," Dumbledore explained, "I had assumed Gringotts mentioned it to you when you visited before first year. Now, this first memory," he began as he uncorked a vial and poured it into the pensieve, "Do you remember back in your first year, when you asked me why Voldemort was after you?"

His heart beginning to beat faster in his chest, Harry nodded quickly, "You said you'd tell me when I was older". He paused for a moment before took a chance, already certain that it was time, "I'm older now, Sir".

"Indeed you are," Dumbledore agreed as he tapped his wand on the surface of the pensieve, causing the liquid inside to bulge up and morph into the form of a more than familiar witch.

"**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him… born as the seventh month dies…**" Professor Trelawney rasped out, "**And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies**".

Now, despite not being of Hermione-level intelligence, Harry was still quite the bright young man and managed to piece what he'd just heard together.

"There was a prophecy?" he blurted, looking between the shrinking form of Trelawney and Dumbledore's sad face. "He went after me because a prophecy told him too?"

"Unfortunately so," Dumbledore confessed, sounding like he was getting a heavy weight of his chest by admitting this. "A spy of his overheard the prophecy being given and ran to tell his Master. However, perhaps luckily for us, the spy only heard the first half of the prophecy".

Staring down at the pensieve as his mind raced, Harry looked up at the nearly crying Headmaster who was clearly locked in a memory of his own with glazed over eyes. Reaching out to touch the man's hand, causing him to jump and refocus his eyes on Harry's own, he asked "What's the 'power the Dark Lord knows not'?"

"Love," Dumbledore rasped out, clearing his throat before trying again. "I believe it is love. Growing up in an orphanage, Tom Riddle never knew love, and then when confronted with your mother's love-based sacrifice and protections it undid him".

"Love?" Harry echoed, face scrunching up in disgust. "What good is love against _him_?"

"I think you'll be surprised, my boy," Dumbledore said knowingly. "Did you know that I am a certified master in the art of occlumency? The magical skill of closing one's mind to foreign invasion," he explained when Harry frowned at his non-sequitur. "I was taught the art by my father, who was a master himself since I could walk. And yet your mother arrived at Hogwarts one year and walked straight into my mind as if I were a toddler," he continued with a chuckle, "And that's not all she could do. Oh no".

As the man reached for the empty flask, his hanging robe knocked straight into it, Harry's hand snapping out before he could stop himself to catch it mid-fall. "Hmmm, yes, your mother could do that too," Dumbledore confirmed innocently, eyes twinkling as Harry looked between his hand and the floating flask guiltily, "It took me far too long to understand how and why she had these gifts when even the 'strongest pureblood' lines didn't".

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded as the Headmaster plucked the flask from the air and returned the memory to it. "My Mum was a muggleborn, not a pureblood".

"Which was precisely the problem my boy," Dumbledore agreed, the corners of his eyes tilting up with his smile. "Have you seen young Nymphadora's fascinating ability yet?"

"You mean when she changed her hair colour?"

"She can do much more than that, Nymphadora is a metamorphmagus, something I believe muggles call a 'shape shifter'," Dumbledore explained, making Harry's eyes widen. "Yes indeed. This is a _very_ rare magical gift, one that cannot be taught nor trained. Nymphadora's gift – despite what the purebloods wish to claim – comes from the infusion of fresh muggleborn blood into the Black family's lineage, the origin family for the metamorphmagus trait".

"What does my mother have to do with _that_ though? Sir?" Harry tacked onto the end of his question, staring at the Headmaster expectantly.

"Lily Evans was a muggleborn," Dumbledore said simply, "And yet she bore a magical gift long thought extinct after the _pureblood_ family wielding it died out. Rather curiously, the goblins at Gringotts were able to trace her lineage back to the Heir of the family who was denied his title by the Wizengamot due to his squib status".

"So these feelings? The whispers in my head? And the moving things," Harry added hopefully, "They're normal? I'm not... I'm not a freak?"

"You, Harry Potter, are certainly _not_ a freak," Dumbledore corrected firmly, "What you are, is perhaps one of the last Sorcerers in the entire United Kingdom".

* * *

**THE SORCERER**

* * *

_Based off my own _"Psyche" _challenge._


	84. Ritual

**RITUAL**

* * *

As he stepped into the common room, Harry was met with a wave of noise that almost knocked him off his feet, grabbing hands latching onto his robes and pulling him into the middle of the room where the whole of Gryffindor was standing staring at him.

And surprisingly, because Gryffindors didn't usually do things by halves, half of them were cheering and applauding while the other half were glaring and shouting.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" Fred shouted as he appeared out of nowhere, he and George scooping him up onto their shoulders.

"But how did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" added George as he jostled Harry, sounding both annoyed and impressed.

"I- I _didn't_!" Harry argued, squirming about in an attempt to make them put him down. "I don't know how-"

"If it couldn't be me, Harry," Angelina interrupted, "Then at least it's a Gryffindor".

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" Katie Bell cut in excitedly.

"_Exactly_!" Angelina confirmed happily.

"We've got food, Harry," a voice he didn't recognise said quickly, "Come and have some".

"I'm not hungry, I ate at the feast," he refused quickly, only to be dropped down onto his feet right in front of a table that had been covered in food. "Guys, seriously".

Nobody seemed to care though, everybody was busy clapping him on the back and congratulating him for having something else trying to kill him. Lee Jordan had dug up a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and only Harry's quick thinking prevented it from being magically tied around his neck like a cape, a flick of his wand instead causing it to tie itself around Lee Jordan's arms instead.

"Guys stop," he called, trying to make himself heard over all the shouting. "Everyone!"

Finally losing his temper as another butterbeer was shoved into his hands, Harry threw it down at the ground as hard as he could, the sound of glass shattering making the entire room go still. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet," he growled out, well aware of everyone's eyes on him, "And I don't know who did".

"Oh come on Harry! You don't have to lie to us!"

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Harry asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the suddenly flushing blonde boy. "I'll only say this once. _I am not lying_!" he shouted, the quietly that followed leaving him wonder if he'd been silenced without his knowledge. "Now, does anybody here _still_ not believe me?" he demanded, looking around the room at the sheepish Gryffindors.

"Yeah, okay," a heart-breakingly familiar voice said sceptically, everyone splitting out of the way so Harry could see the speaker. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, when no one would've seen you. I may not be Hermione Granger, but I'm not stupid".

"Don't you _dare_ bring me into this Ronald!"

"I _also_ said, Ron," Harry forced out, both hurt and resigned by his friend's words, "That I wanted a normal year at Hogwarts without somebody trying to kill me". And Merlin... did he sound melodramatic saying that out loud in front of all of Gryffindor.

"Right. Because who would want to kill _you_?" Ron spat, the rest of the House quiet as they stared between the two.

"Do you want the list?" Harry countered, "Voldemort when I was one. Voldemort again when I was twelve. Voldemort and a basilisk when I was twelve. Thankfully Voldemort wasn't involved last year, when _we_ were attacked by a horde of dementors and a werewolf. And now? Now it seems like it's this bloody Tournament's turn!"

"If you didn't want to die in the Tournament then you shouldn't have entered," Ron said with a snort.

"_I didn't enter_!"

"Right," Ron said simply, turning and starting back up the spiral staircase to their dormitory without another word.

Ron wasn't the only person to turn away, it seemed, as most of Gryffindor exchanged looks and began backing away from him awkwardly. As Hermione slowly made her way through the crowd towards him, Harry was forced to watch as the rest of Gryffindor scattered, sending him disgusted looks as the words "Cheat" and "Liar" echoed back to him.

"Harry," Hermione began, only to falter and trail off, the book-smart girl not seeming to know what to say.

"Four times in four years," he ground out, staring across the room at the fireplace, not having moved since he started his speech.

"It's not like that," Hermione tried to argue.

"First year it was over the one-hundred and fifty points we lost getting Norbert to the tower," Harry corrected bluntly, not at all concerned by the lack of emotion in his voice as he felt his magic within his chest flaring and spluttering in time with the flames in the fireplace. "Second year they found out I was a parseltongue and called me a dark lord. And in third year they wanted to hand me over to Black".

Hermione let out a squeak and shifted uncomfortably, "You heard about that then?" she asked weakly, Harry sending her a Look (capital 'L' necessary) in response. "Of course you did," she realised sadly, "What are you going to do?"

"What makes you say I'm going to do anything?" Harry countered, a smirk tugging at his lips as it was Hermione's turn to send him a Look. "Can you do me a favour?" he asked quietly, hoping, _pleading_ she would say yes.

"I trust you, Harry," Hermione promised. "I've trusted you ever since you rammed your wand up a troll's nose to save my life".

"It's stupid," he warned, trying to keep the warmth he felt in his chest from her words hidden from his voice. "Really, _really_ stupid".

"I trust you".

"It's dangerous," he added, turning to face her fully. "Really, _really_ dangerous".

"I trust you," Hermione answered, facing him as well as she raised her jaw bravely.

"It could kill me," he continued, "Like, really kill me. Totally dead".

"I trust you," Hermione repeated.

"I know you do," Harry agreed. For how could he not when she was meeting his eyes with nothing but determination in hers? "Did I mention it was stupid?" he asked awkwardly.

"It wouldn't be _your_ plan if it wasn't," Hermione said simply, a small smile growing on her face as he grinned. "What do you need me to do?"

"Wait here," Harry instructed, "I have to get something from my trunk, then we'll go".

When Hermione nodded, backing up to jump up and sit on the table, Harry beamed at her before turning to run up to his dormitory. Ignoring the way Ron, Seamus and Dean's conversation cut off the moment he entered, Harry started going through his trunk. The Map and his invisibility cloak ending up at his feet, he turned his trunk so the others couldn't see and masterfully popped off its false lid, catching the thin black book and the box that fell out. With a parting glare in Ron's direction, Harry gathered up the three items and started back down the stairs, shoving the box and book into his robes as he gestured for Hermione to follow him out into the corridor.

"Don't ask," he ordered as he threw the cloak over them, "I'll explain when we get there".

It didn't take them too long to get to his destination, the Marauder's Map allowing them to avoid any teachers or prefects patrolling the halls. As they stepped into the abandoned classroom, Harry clearing the dust with a murmured spell, Hermione looked around curiously.

"What classroom is this? I've never seen it before".

"It _was_ the classroom for Enchanting," Harry confessed, absently casting a locking charm at the already closed portrait door.

"But the Enchanting class was-" "Cancelled the year Dumbledore became Headmaster," he interrupted, "I've read '_Hogwarts; A History_' too you know," Harry pointed out as Hermione blinked at him in shock. "The previous Headmaster had was a Enchantment Master so he taught the class on the side, since Dumbledore didn't have the necessary skills he was forced to cancel the class".

"Right," Hermione agreed proudly, "How did you find this class? Was it on the Map?"

"I found it last year when looking over the Map," Harry admitted, "I _was_ going to set up in here this year, but then there was the announcement about the Tournament, so I figured I'd wait a bit first".

Hermione just hummed non-committedly as Harry mentally mapped out the room. "So, is this going to be our own personal common room?" she asked as she looked around as well, "Because I for one vote that we keep this a secret. What? I think it's cool that we have our own hideout," she confessed as Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now, tell me everything Dumbledore and the others said," Hermione instructed bluntly, "I assumed from your little... speech... earlier that you're still in the Tournament, otherwise you would have said so outright".

Sighing slowly, Harry began talking, everything spilling from his mouth without end. As he spoke, he used his wand to levitate the desks and chairs out of the way down to the far end of the room, Hermione catching on quickly and helping. "So basically," he finished as he cleaned more dust off the floor and gestured for Hermione to move, "Dumbledore said I have no choice but to compete, _after_ pretty much accusing me of putting my name in despite the way Moody said that kind of magic was beyond me".

"Harry... what are you doing?" Hermione asked hesitantly as she watched him drawing a perfect circle on the floor with his wand.

"The kind of magic that's beyond me," Harry dismissed with a lazy wave of his free hand, "Anyway. Snape's acting like it's a bloody field day, crowning on about how I'm just like my father despite the way everyone knows I don't remember him. Moody's going on about how the Death Eaters are after me, he kept making weird faces at Karkaroff when he said that too," he added thoughtfully. "All of Gryffindor now believes I'm a cheat _and_ a liar for telling them the truth. And how in Merlin's name can't I draw this circle right when the first one was completely _perfect_?"

"What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked again, this time clearly suspicious of the obvious ritual circle he was attempting to draw on the floor between them.

"Like I said. The kind of magic that's beyond me," Harry repeated, "Do you trust me Hermione? Then trust that I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't certain," he pressed when she nodded slowly.

"You said it was stupid, dangerous and would likely get you killed," Hermione blurted, looking horrified as she finally realised what was going on.

"Yeah. All of the above," Harry agreed as he moved on to drawing the runes between the circles. "Here," he continued, pausing to take the box and book out of his robes and setting them on the floor. "Read this," he ordered as he handed her the letter tucked between the pages of the book.

"_Dear Harry_," Hermione began, drifting between reading aloud and in her head. "You have an Uncle?"

"Had. He died before I was born," Harry confirmed, "His middle name was Harry, actually, I'm named after him. He took two dozen Death Eaters with him when he died".

"Huh".

Hermione was silent as Harry slowly completed the ritual circle on the floor, consulting with the book beside him as he drew.

"So let me get this straight," Hermione said emotionlessly, "You've decided to abandon me and the rest of the wizarding world because they've turned on you every year you've been here?"

Harry paused.

"What?"

"It _clearly_ states here, that upon completing the ritual you'll lose your magic," Hermione growled, a breeze tugging at Harry's hair and making him glance up at his friend cautiously. "And because you can't do magic, you'll be forced to leave Hogwarts, and _me_".

"Did you read the next paragraph?" Harry asked nervously, not liking the way his friend's magic was making her hair float around her head. "I won't be losing my magic," he explained as Hermione read, "I'll be... upgrading it, so to speak".

When Hermione's hair returned to normal, Harry let out a silent sigh of relief before returning to drawing the circle. "Is this entirely risk-free?" she asked slowly, "This ritual?"

"If it was, would it be dangerous and potentially fatal?" Harry countered, clapping his hands together as he finished the final rune and stepped away to view his handiwork. "Don't answer that," he added quickly, "Just help me make sure I drew everything correctly".

Ignoring Hermione's grumbling the two of them checked every single rune with the one drawn in the thin book he was holding.

"I still want a better explanation before letting you do this, you know," Hermione warned when they were done.

"My Uncle, Hadrian Dorian Potter, was born almost ten years _before_ my father was," Harry explained with a shrug, "Except he's not really my Uncle, he's my grandfather's bastard son. Anyway, it just so happens that his mother was a muggle".

"I don't see how that's relevant," Hermione muttered

"Yes you do. The fresh blood," Harry pointed out, "The Potter line, several hundred years ago, were rather well known for popping out a different breed of magic user. But, instead of being Shaman, or Druids, these were more powerful than Wizards".

"They're also dark beings," Hermione interrupted, "Ones that you can only be _born_ as, not be made into".

"Unless you _were_ born as one and had your magic bound before the first full moon," Harry corrected. "Seriously? Did you not read the letter? Second to last paragraph," he cited, making Hermione snatch up the letter to begin reading as he started undressing. "It's only like a dozen words, _'On the 31__st__ of June, ten minutes to midnight, you were born. You had Hadrian's eyes'_. That's like a sign that I took after my Uncle".

"That's sixteen words," Hermione mumbled out weakly. "Do you know what this means, Harry?"

Harry shrugged as he grabbed what was inside the box and stepped in the middle of the circle, shivering in just a pair of ratty boxers. "That I'll need a new wand, and I'll be expelled from Hogwarts the moment the Tournament is finished?"

"No, it me-" Hermione's sudden loss of words made him look up, a vial of blood held in his right hand. "Harry... what are you doing?"

"A potentially fatal blood ritual designed to reach into my very magical core and shatter it?" Harry asked innocently.

"Blood?" Hermione squeaked out.

"Oh its fine, the Ministry can't do anything when they find out about this. My parents are dead, and this is my own blood," he explained.

"Harry. Please don't," Hermione whispered softly, staring into his eyes as he uncorked the vial.

"Without this Hermione, I won't survive the Tournament".

"We'll find a way," she promised.

"I've already found one," Harry corrected as he tipped the vial back and swallowed the mouthful of his own blood, not having the time to grimace at the taste as he started chanting.

He'd win this bloody Tournament, _his_ way.

* * *

**RITUAL**

* * *

_I'm not entirely sure about what exactly it is that Harry was born as. When I came up with this idea I never got as far as deciding that rather pivotal plot point, so instead I decided to just leave it open like this._


	85. Corvinus

**CORVINUS**

* * *

When Hank Mills left his home that evening, on the 2nd of August, to meet his wife for dinner at their favourite restaurant – the last thing he _ever_ expected to happen to him was for him to attacked by Harry Potter.

But alas, despite the fact that such a thing would never have entered onto his list of what to prepare for, it still happened.

Hank had known for years that the stories told about 'that Potter boy' were just that, stories. He had watched Potter's cousin, Dudley, beating up his neighbour's kid himself. He'd even shown his neighbour the footage from the security cameras he'd set up after the youngest Dursley had broken into his garage and tried to steal his son's motorcycle. Not that it helped though, Hank had even brought the tape to the police, and yet his neighbour still insisted it was Potter despite the video evidence, the boy who'd been attacked, and the police proving otherwise.

He'd stopped talking to Arabella Figg after that, she'd clearly gone off her rocker.

But anyway, Hank had been walking to the diner, as his doctor had suggested he take better care of his body. And it'd been while he was walking there that he'd heard it, someone screaming. Now, Hank wasn't as young as he had been back in the day, but once a cop always a cop, and before he knew it he was running (okay… hobbling) towards the source of the voice.

And that's where he found Harry Potter standing over his cousin. Roughly kicking the whimpering boy in the side, Hank watched as Potter snorted and let out a rude "Hey, fatty, you gonna get up or what?"

When Dursley only let out a pathetic mewl in response, Hank watched Potter roll his eyes, something flashing in them for a second as he dropped down into a crouch beside his cousin. "Dudley," the boy drawled slowly, Hank hearing something dark in his voice, "If you don't get up in the next, say five seconds? I'm going to eat you". Standing up and bouncing on his heels as Dursley started flailing about in an attempt to stand up, Hank could only hold his breath in shock as Potter reached out to grab him by the shirt, lifting him clean off the ground with just a single hand. "Oh stop blubbering, you were taking too long," Potter dismissed, "Oh… and by the way Dudley, you took too long".

And then right in front of him, Potter's eyes flashed again and he was bending Dursley back, teeth sinking into his cousin's throat and audibly tearing. Following the large boy to the ground as his legs collapsed, Potter slurped noisily at his neck like some kind of vampire, a horrified Hank unable to take his eyes away from the weakly struggling boy. It was only when Dursley went entirely limp that Potter finally pulled away, tilting his head back to reveal the blood on this teeth and the two fangs descending from his upper jaw.

"Huh… I should I have eaten you sooner Dudley," Potter murmured slowly, "Before your diet could let your blood get too sugary. But what about you, Hank?" he asked innocently, "Do you think your blood is going to be sugary too? Or shall I finally get a proper meal?"

Hank didn't even have the time to react before a hand was closing around his throat and he was being pulled into the alleyway, a grunt escaping his lips as Potter slammed him against the wall with a hungry look on his face. Clawing at Potter's hand uselessly, Hank gasped for air and watched as Potter tilted his head, the light above them going dark for a moment in which Potter's usually emerald eyes shone an ethereal silver – like the bands on a hi-vis vest – before the light flickered back and the boy's… the creature's… eyes returned to normal.

"I'm so, so hungry, Hank," Potter exhaled softly, the boy almost looking lost for a second or two, "I can't help it. I've eaten my own body weight in food the past two days, and yet I craved more. Now I know I guess," he finished with a sad chuckle, "Goodbye, Hank, hope you taste better than fatso over there".

Hank Mills would never get the chance to add 'getting attacked by a vampire' to the list of things to prepare for, since as far as everyone else was concerned he'd gone for a walk and never returned, not even his body being found by the police who combed the area looking for one of their own.

* * *

The empty house creaked around him. The pipes gurgled. The mice in the walls squeaked. And the intruders downstairs opened the locked back door with a whispered _'Alohomora'_.

Cocking his head as he lounged on his bed, Harry Potter let a smirk cross his face, listening to the witches and wizards as they entered his 'home' and wandered around the kitchen. As a plate shattered downstairs, he rolled his eyes, gracefully unfolding from his bed and stretching out as he listened to what the intruders were talking about in quiet murmurs.

"How rude," he muttered under his breath when he realised they were discussing him.

Wizards were such an arrogant lot.

Not bothering to throw a shirt on, Harry opened the door and started towards the staircase, his teeth itching as he moved silently through the house. Hesitating at the top of the stairs, he looked over the landing to where around eight or nine people were standing around the ground floor of #4 Privet Drive. His eyes taking in everything cast into minute detail by the street lights outside, he watched the figures below in amusement, recognising two of them as ex-Professors Lupin and Moody.

Hmmm, Lupin could be a problem, he wasn't sure how 'his kind' reacted to werewolves.

"Potter!" barked Moody's rough voice, interrupting his silent musing, "Whatdaya think you're doing? You hear someone in your house and you hex first, ask questions later!"

"That implies I need my wand to deal with you," Harry countered calmly, leaning against the railing and smiling innocently down at the wizards. "I saw you in my backyard," he lied, "If I wanted it then you'd already be dead".

"I believe you," Moody responded slowly, both of his eyes locked onto the raven-haired boy. "What happened Potter?"

"I dunno. What _did_ happen Moody?" Harry questioned slowly, not moving from his advantageous position standing above them. "What would make you break into my home when you've made certain to ignore all my attempts at contacting you so far?"

"You know what I mean Potter," Moody shot back.

"No. I really don't," Harry dismissed casually, not taking his eyes away from the wizards downstairs as he leaned against the balcony lazily.

"The Patronus charm, Harry," Remus explained.

"What about it?" he replied slowly, head cocking as he frowned down at the adults, finally beginning to descend the stairs.

"You cast it!" an unnamed wizard exclaimed angrily, "Stop playing around Potter, this is serious!"

"Forget about the bloody charm," Moody hissed, wand snapping up to aim at Harry as he reached the ground floor, "Answer the damn question".

"Put your wand away Professor," Harry dismissed slowly, his lips twitching up into a smirk, "You'd be dead before you even managed to cast a spell".

"I ain't too keen on dying without trying," Moody shot back, the two of them ignoring the other confused and shocked witches and wizards around them.

"Well, I ain't too keen on killing you, so I think you and I can talk safely," Harry countered bluntly.

Moody stared at him for a moment before his real eye narrowed, "Animal?" he guessed.

"I may be used to eating small rations," Harry drawled in amusement, "But that doesn't mean I'm willing to eat parchment to get by".

"What are you still doing here?" Moody demanded coldly, "I assume the Dursleys are dead?"

"My first meal," Harry confessed with a smirk as the others gasped, "I thought it carried a hint of irony, actually. Once upon a time they refused to feed me, so I ate them".

"Ha- Harry?" Lupin stuttered out, the man's eyes widening rapidly as he finally caught Harry's scent. "What? What happened?"

The teenager in question paused, sending Lupin a look that screamed 'how stupid are you?' without bothering to hide the disgust on his face. "I ate them," he said slowly, emerald green eyes unblinking, "Didn't I just say that?"

"You gonna come with us Potter?" Moody interrupted quickly before anyone else could speak, "Or are we gonna have to force it?"

Harry's eyes flicked to Moody for a moment, before a toothy grin was growing across his face. "It's cute that you think you _could_ force it," he pointed out simply.

"_Lumos Solem_," was Moody's answer, bright sunlight shining from the tip of his wand as it snapped up. After a couple of seconds of the blinding light, the ex-Auror lowered his wand when he heard the sound of glass shattering, the light dying away to reveal Harry standing there in the shadows as if nothing had happened – his eyes seeming to glow as they held onto the light for a moment longer before the luminescent white faded back into acid green.

"Wow. You didn't even hesitate. I expected better from you Moody," Harry drawled as his lips twisted into a smirk. "Straight to homicide? What happened to one verbal and two written warnings?"

"You can't kill what's already dead," Moody replied, Harry's lips parting to reveal two fangs that confirmed the suspicions of the gathered witches and wizards.

"That's funny, because what's already dead can certainly kill you. Would you like me to prove it?" Harry asked innocently as he seemingly teleported across the room in a heartbeat, a hand curling around Moody's throat and lifting him into the air as his other hand snapped the man's wand.

"Harry," a voice rang out suddenly, "Put him down".

"Do I have to?" Harry asked over his shoulder, hearing the almost silent footsteps entering the house.

"Do I have to tear your throat out?" the voice countered.

Hand opening suddenly, Harry let Moody hit the ground roughly, backing away and turning to pout at Selene as the elder vampire stepped out of the shadows and threw a sport's bag into his arms. "They broke into my home," he defended as he caught sight of the disappointed look on her face, "And Moody cast a sunlight spell. I was merely defending myself".

"I bit you, you're immune to sunlight," Selene corrected as she moved forward faster than even his eyes could follow to throw open the fridge, beginning to shove blood-bags from the backpack on her back into it.

"It was the thought that counted," Harry argued, ignoring the gathered witches and wizards as he moved over to hop onto the bench. "When can I leave this dump?" he asked when his 'sire' didn't respond, "I've been trapped here for two weeks now".

"I told you, I have to find a curse-breaker willing to deal with vampires first," Selene answered bluntly, "These blood wards are stronger than I imagined, I can only get through them when I ingest your blood and Michael is trapped outside entirely".

"You're not taking him, leech!" Moody's voice rasped, "He's not yours!"

"He's a Corvinus-strain vampire," Selene said simply, turning to fix glowing silver eyes on Moody and the rest of the magic-users. "Our kind are not magical in nature, therefore no Ministry of Magic has power over us".

"You heard the lady," Harry called out from the benchtop as he reached in to pluck a blood bag from the fridge, his teeth itching again as they descended into fangs. "You have no power over me, bye bye".

"We're not leaving without him!" a large black wizard exclaimed angrily as he stepped forward, neither Selene nor Harry reacting even though the latter knew it was only a matter of time before the former tore out someone's throat.

"You're not leaving _with_ me either, Brittney," Harry shot back.

"My name, is _Kingsley_".

Harry just smirked, "Brittney suits you better".

"Enough," Selene interrupted, "Its pointless arguing. Unless one of you can lower these wards, Harrison (at this name Harry grimaced) is stuck within the blood wards that activated when the transformation was completed".

Silence answered them for a moment, Harry watching emotionlessly as he suckled quietly on the bag of slightly lukewarm blood. "The wards are bound to his blood," Moody growled slowly, "Despite being a vampire, he's only _mostly_ dead, thus making him partially alive. Because of this I imagine the wards latched onto you as his sire, and are only keeping him here because that's where they were set up".

"How do we break them?" Selene demanded, silver eyes unblinking at they stared into Moody's.

"He needs to declare this is no longer his home," Moody answered unhappily.

"This is no longer my home," Harry said instantly, all of them shuddering at the feeling of magic rising in the air. When the magic vanished, they all blinked at the sudden rush, the magic-users jumping in shock at the yelp from outside. "He was leaning against the wards wasn't he?" he asked, making Selene snort.

"It doesn't matter, lets go".

"Wait! He can't leave! He's ou… ours," Remus finished unhappily as Selene and then Harry vanished, the door slamming shut behind them. "Great. How in Merlin's name do we explain that Harry's been kidnapped by vampires?"

* * *

**CORVINUS**

* * *

Not sure what this idea is based off really, I just found it on my computer and figured I might as well finish it.


	86. Sorry

**SORRY**

* * *

Throwing himself through the air, Harry dove for the dumpster, hoping to hide behind it until Dudley's small mind got distracted and he wandered off.

Instead of hitting the green metal bin, he swore he felt the wind picking up, lifting him higher than he thought possible and depositing him safely on the roof of the school. As he heard Dudley's voice screaming violent war-cries, Harry reacted on instinct and scrambled to hide behind one of the school's chimneys, ducking behind it as he clamped his eyes shut and wished.

Sitting as still as a rock, Harry held his breath and strained his ears to focus on the sounds of Dudley and his gang as they searched around the dead end for him. After what felt like years, he slowly let the air escape his lungs as he heard Dudley muttering something about getting hungry before leading his goons out of the dead end and towards the school cafeteria.

Exhaling as he leaned back against the brick chimney, Harry faltered as he swore he heard a voice murmuring out, "Oh my… what a powerful one".

Eyes snapping open, Harry looked around the rooftop for the speaker, before twisting around and peering around the chimney, careful not to be seen by anyone below him on the ground. Frowning slightly when he saw no-one, he pulled back behind the chimney, freezing completely as he felt someone breathing on the back of his neck.

Swallowing sharply, he turned around slowly, flinching back against the chimney as he stared at the woman standing opposite. Black fiery eyes stared at him from a purple-skinned woman, twisted horns growing from her forehead as she grinned down at him. "Hello little boy," the woman greeted, baring her sharp teeth at him as she adjusted the scarves covering her privates, "You _hate_ the way they chase you about don't you?"

Unable to speak, Harry quickly turned his back on the woman, looking out across the school as he hoped the strange woman would leave him alone. He would be in enough trouble as it was, somehow finding his way up onto the school roof, he didn't need to double his Uncle's punishment by admitting he'd seen some strange purple lady on the roof as well.

"You don't have to let them treat you like that you know," the woman continued, making him pause for a moment before shaking his head.

Yes he did. Harry had _tried_ to stand up for himself, and Uncle Vernon had broken his arm in response, banishing him to his cupboard until it healed.

"You have the power to stop them," the purple lady added enticingly, "You just need to learn how to access it".

"What power?"

Slapping his hands over his mouth, Harry shot the surprised woman a guilty look, quickly turning away from her and facing the school again. He couldn't see her, and if he couldn't see her then he shouldn't be able to hear her either, meaning Harry had screwed up and was going to get punished again.

"You can see me?" the woman asked, moving around to stand in front of him, not seeming to notice the way his mouth had fallen open in shock. "You're a lot more powerful than I thought," she murmured, smiling at him gently as Harry stared down at her feet where she was floating in mid-air, having stepped off the roof.

"I'm not powerful," Harry denied, deciding that he was already in trouble anyway.

"But you are," the woman corrected in a purr, almost _swimming_ through the air as she began to circle him, causing him to get distracted by her tail for a second or two. "How else would you get up here? You didn't jump," she pointed out as Harry opened his mouth instantly to claim that very thing, "Nor did the wind catch you. I saw you, I saw you vanish from down there and reappear up here. You teleported, Harry, _you_".

"How do you know my name?" he asked curiously, edging away from the roof and ducking back behind the chimney so they could speak without being interrupted.

"The same way I know the thing you want the most in this world," the purple woman explained, "I can see into your soul".

"What is it? The thing I want most?" Harry questioned suspiciously, not believing her explanation which was getting too close to 'magic' for his taste.

"Power," the woman said simply, "You want to be able to stand up for yourself. You want to be able to say 'No' and be heard. You want to make Dudley feel everything you feel – don't lie to me," she said sternly as Harry went to argue, "You may not be as cruel as Uncle Vernon, but some part of you wants them to feel the same way they make you feel. And perhaps most importantly, you want power so that no-one can make you do whatever it is you don't want to do. You want to be free".

Okay… so maybe the purple woman was correct. Maybe he _did_ want to be free, but he wouldn't say he wanted to hurt Dudley, or that he wanted power.

"Of course you wouldn't," the woman agreed, "You're eight. You don't understand the finer points in life. You don't get that the more powerful you are, the less that other people can tell you want to do. I can give you that power," she whispered in his ear.

Shaking his head, Harry crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Why would you?" he asked softly, not trusting the woman to keep her promise. Everyone else lied to him after all, why wouldn't she?

"Because I understand you, Harry," the woman claimed gently, making him flinch as two clawed hands landed on his shoulders. "I get that you don't want to be controlled, I get that you want to live your own life. I feel the same way, Harry, everyone always screams at the sight of me, they call me 'demon' or 'freak' and refuse to let me live".

The woman sighed, making Harry glance up at her to see a wistful look on her face. "They call you a demon too?" he mumbled. Aunt Petunia called _him_ a demon sometimes, and at number four Privet Drive he heard the name 'freak' more often than anything else.

"I'm a spirit," the woman explained as she nodded, "But I'm a 'negative' spirit, people call me a demon because they don't want to admit they're wrong. I embody people's desires, their wants, but they don't want to admit that they truly want those things and so they call me evil. I don't want to be evil, Harry," she explained softly.

"I don't want to be evil either," Harry agreed.

"You don't have to be," the woman assured him, "You just have to let me in. I'll show _you_ how to become powerful, teach you how to unlock your inner strength, and you'll show _me_ how to live".

Harry bit his lip, tempted by her offer but still feeling that something was off about it.

"How about this, Harry," the spirit said suddenly. "I'll give you a teaser. A… _taste…_ of my power. And, come this time tomorrow, should you still want to say no? Then we'll part ways and you'll never hear from me again, what do you think of that?"

"I'll be able to say no?" Harry blurted, turning around to stare at the purple woman in shock.

"You'll be able to say no," the woman confirmed with a soft smile.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?"

Head snapping around to stare at his furious-looking teacher, he swallowed nervously when he saw the smugly smirking Dudley standing beside the man. He was going to be in _so_ much trouble when he got home… unless…

"I'll be able to say no?" he asked one more time, glancing at the spirit, who just smiled in response, reaching out to brush his fringe out of the way with one delicate claw.

"Whenever you want," she agreed.

* * *

"_HOW DARE YOU USE YOUR FREAKISHNESS LIKE THAT?"_

"But I didn't!" Harry defended as he was dragged into the house by his Uncle's grip on his hair, "I just climbed up!"

Uncle Vernon just let out an indecipherable noise, almost tearing Harry's cupboard door off its hinges before throwing him in and slamming the door behind him. His head spinning where it collided with wall of his cupboard, Harry barely managed to hear his Uncle locking the door behind him, a threat hissed through the door warning him to keep quiet or he'd wish he'd never been born.

"And people think _I'm_ evil," the purple lady's voice whispered, Harry flinching slightly when he suddenly found half of his small cupboard taken up by the curled up woman. "Not even _I_ would harm a child like that".

Whatever Harry was expecting her to say next didn't come, leaving them both sitting silently in his cupboard, purple fiery eyes locked on him even as he avoided her eyes, humiliated by the fact that she'd seen how Vernon treated him. Instead of speaking though, Harry twitched as something brushed against his leg, head snapping around and causing a flare up of the lingering dizziness as he stared down at the tail curled around his ankle. Watching the purple spirit through his fringe, confusion filled him as he wondered what she was doing, the woman not reacting to what her tail was doing as she cleaned her nails.

_Splat_.

Jerking in shock, Harry turned his head too quickly again, fighting off the dizziness as he blinked dumbly down at the spot of red on the wooden floor of his cupboard.

_Splat._

_Splat._

Huh?

Raising his hand up to his head, Harry made a face as he pulled it back to see the blood covering his fingers, a sigh escaping his lips as he automatically reached for one of his shirts to cover the wound – only for a clawed hand to curl around his wrist and stop him.

"I gave you power, did I not?" the spirit questioned slowly, "Why do you not use it?"

Faltering for a moment, Harry just shrugged uncertainly, not entirely sure what 'power' he'd been given in the first place. Smiling at him gently, the woman – not releasing his hand – moved it over to the cupboard door and smeared the blood from his hand onto the door's lock.

"Open it".

Before he could stop and think about what he was doing, Harry was reaching out and placing his clean hand over the blood, eyes narrowing slightly before, with a loud _crack_ and a flash of light, the door was blasted right out its frame as he felt a rise of power surging up from the blood on the door.

As he climbed out of his cupboard and stepped over its fallen door, Harry found himself raising his hand to his bleeding forehead, scooping up as much of his own blood as he could. His Uncle letting out a roar and rumbling through the house, he stared down at the blood covering his hand, just _feeling_ the power running through his veins.

"Remember Harry," the purple spirit whispered from where she was lounging on his cot, "Power means never having to say you're sorry".

Eyes snapping up as his Uncle Vernon lumbered into the hallway, a look of utter insanity in his eyes, Harry pulled back his blood stained hand and thrust it forward. Almost instantly he felt the power surge up inside him, light erupting from his palm and electricity arced down the hallway to strike his Uncle in the chest. Stepping forward as he concentrated on the power surging through his blood, Harry refused to flinch as Vernon struck the side of the archway and was pinned by the lightning dancing down Harry's arm and into his body.

Releasing his Uncle and watching the fat man slump down to the floor smoking, Harry looked down at his hands again, watching the electricity rolling across his skin.

And he _knew_.

He just knew he could control his power on his own, he knew how to tap into it at will and make it dance to his tune.

Turning as the purple spirit crawled out of his cupboard – no… not his cupboard any longer – Harry just tilted his head as she beamed at him victoriously.

"You are _so_ much more powerful than I thought," the spirit praised, "Oh the things I could teach you…"

"I don't need you to teach me how to control _my_ power," Harry corrected bluntly. He had a lot of things to learn, he knew he did. But he no longer needed her.

"Don't even think about it," the spirit growled, her face turning dark. "I gave you that power, and I can take it away".

"But power means never having to say you're sorry," Harry shot back, hands snapping up and lightning blasting out to stab into the spirit's 'body' and slamming her into the wall opposite. "And this power is mine," he added as he watched the spirit scream emotionlessly, pushing everything he had into preventing the woman from fighting back.

When she finally exploded into black dust and vanished, Harry sagged back against the wall as a wave of exhaustion hit him. His power was his, and his alone. He wouldn't share it _or_ his body with someone who so carelessly admitted to being a demon.

Glancing over at his Uncle, Harry watched the lightning flicker between his fingers. He needed to rest, to get his strength back. He needed all the power he could muster up for when his Uncle woke and tried to 'fix' the balance in the Dursley house.

Padding upstairs, grateful that his Aunt had decided to take Dudley out for ice-cream while Harry was punished, he pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and locked it behind him. The next few months wouldn't be easy. He'd have to sleep with one eye open to prevent his 'loving family' from getting the drop on him, and he'd have to practice his Power endlessly to get it to full strength – but he knew it was worth it.

After all, he had the Power. And he wasn't sorry.

* * *

**SORRY**

* * *

_Inspired by DZ2's_ "Mark of Zeus" _challenge! It's not the original idea I had in mind for it, but I like it._


	87. Wake-up Call

**WAKE-UP CALL**

* * *

Harry Potter had been in the midst of a most unusual dream when it happened.

One minute he'd been floating through a dark forest on his Firebolt, following a strange silvery mist as blue-green fire crackled in the distance, and then the next thing he knew he was waking up to a bloodcurdling scream as something loud slammed.

Fumbling wildly with his hangings as Ron's scream echoed through the air, Harry heard the rest of his dorm mates cursing as well as someone cast a _lumos_ to light up the dark room. As he finally got his hangings open, snatching up his wand to hex Ron into next week, he saw that Ron hadn't merely had a nightmare – but he was sitting there holding his hangings out looking terrified.

Hangings that had a single jagged tear cut straight through them.

"Lemme at 'im," Seamus' sleepy voice slurred, his accent only getting worse in his half-awake state.

"BLACK!" Ron shouted wildly, his voice cracking. "SIRIUS BLACK! WITH A _KNIFE_!"

"What?" Dean's voice blurted nervously as Harry stared at the torn hangings, something cold burning in his stomach.

"Somethi- something woke me up!" Ron rambled, "I thought one of you guys had got up so I opened my hangings to see and there he was! I- I screamed and he slashed at me as I tried to shut him out and then he was gone!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! Sirius! Sirius Black!" Ron agreed, all of them scrambling out of their beds as the realisation sank in.

Reaching the door first, Harry was throwing it open and sprinting down the stairs with the others behind him, reaching the common room with his wand raised. If Black had been there, he was gone now, the common room being as empty as it'd been when McGonagall had chased them all up to bed.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Dean asked hesitantly as they looked around.

"You saw the curtains!" Ron defended, the boy standing near the wall trembling, "It was him. He was there!"

Slowly the common room began to fill up, boys and girls staggering in sleepily as they pulled on dressing gowns and robes. Questions filled the air too, "Who screamed?", "What's going on?", and even Fred asking "Excellent! Are we restarting the party?"

"EVERYONE BACK UPSTAIRS!" Percy Weasley finally shouted, the boy struggling to pin his Head Boy's badge to his chest as he staggered into the common room. "I AM HEAD BOY, AND I SAY THIS PARTY IS OVER! I _WILL_ START ASSIGNING DETENTIONS NOW IF YOU DON'T-"

"OH SHUT UP YOU BLOODY PRAT!" Harry shouted, cutting the annoying Weasley off. "Nobody _cares_ if you're Head Boy! Every bloody time you say something to us it's about you being Head Boy!"

As people around the common room muttered their agreement, Percy straightened his back and shoulders, looking down his nose at all of them. "I will _not_ allow you to speak to me that way Potter, I'm Head Boy and-" when Percy was cut off by groans across the common room he faltered and sneered at them all, Ron's words preventing him from speaking again.

"It was Sirius Black, Perce," the red-head said quietly, his voice making the entire room go silent, "He was in our dormitory, by my bed, with a knife".

"No-nonsense!" Percy exclaimed, looking startled and ill at the same time. "That- That can't be real. You must have had too much to drink, or-"

"He was there," Neville interrupted as Percy trailed off weakly, "His hangings were cut open, and I heard the door slamming shut when Ron screamed".

Percy was at Ron's side in an instant, hands roaming across his brother's body nervously as the boy started quoting word for word something about 'checking for exterior wounds before calling for medical aid'. "Gred! Forge! Go get McGonagall! NOW! Stay together whatever you do! If you see anyone you don't recognise, hex them and in Merlin's name get out of there," he ordered, the twins nodding and surging towards the door immediately.

The portrait swung open before they could reach it however and McGonagall stepped in, clad in a long tartan nightgown at swept the floor as she moved. "Now really! Enough is enough!" she scolded as she entered the common room, "I am delighted that Gryffindor won that match, but this is getting ridicu-" she froze as she finally looked around the room, sensing just from the mood of the gathered students that something was wrong. "What happened?" she finally asked.

"It's nothing, Professor," Percy pipped up quickly, "My brother Ron here, he just had a bad nightmare-"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron screamed desperately. "SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME WITH A BLOODY KNIFE! IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!"

Professor McGonagall stared. For a moment it looked like she was going to dismiss him out of hand, but the nodding of Harry and the rest of his dorm mates changed her mind. "How could he have possibly gotten in here?" she asked instead.

"I don't know! Ask him!" Ron exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the portrait hole.

Letting out a calming breath, the Professor turned and left the common room, leaving the door open behind her as she did. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried out Sir Cadogan, everyone both inside and outside of the common room falling into stunned silence. "He had the passwords!" the portrait continued when it seemed like McGonagall was too stupefied to speak, "Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

McGonagall finally reacted, pulling herself back into the common room with a face as white as chalk. "Which person," she ground out, "Which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying about?"

Silence answered her for a moment, before Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy-slippered toes slowly stepped forward and raised his hand into the air. Realising what was about to happen, Harry reacted quickly, stepping forward as well and shoving his own hand into the air. All around the common room other hands rose as well, even Ron's rising after a little bit of hesitation.

"They weren't this week's passwords," Fred (or George) corrected quietly, "They were just today's. Sir Cadogan changes the password three times a day ("Four times on Tuesdays," George (or Fred) added, "And on Sundays he just makes them up as he goes along") if we don't write them down then we're stuck outside until someone else shows up. One of us goes out to get the passwords for the day and pins them up on the noticeboard every morning".

McGonagall looked between them all with a startled expression, unable to tell whether they were lying to protect Neville or if it were true. (Harry didn't know if they were lying to protect Neville or not, he just knew that Neville was going to get in a lot of trouble he didn't deserve when Harry himself had a list of the day's passwords upstairs that he usually got from the noticeboard)

"Stay here," McGonagall ordered, "No one is to leave the Tower until _I_ come to tell you otherwise. Seventh years, I want you _all_ in the common room waiting. If anyone enters this Tower that is not myself or a teacher, you are to curse first, ask questions later".

* * *

"Harry? Are you alright?"

Lifting his forehead from his knees, Harry blinked up at Hermione as she climbed up onto the window sill opposite him and wiggled until she was comfortable. "You're being quiet, it took me ages to find you, like you'd cast a notice-me-not charm on yourself," she explained pointedly.

If he had then Harry didn't remember, leaving him to just shrug aimlessly. "I could have died," he whispered slowly, "I almost did".

Hermione just blinked, "But Black attacked _Ron_, not you," she pointed out.

"He wasn't after _Ron_," Harry corrected, making Hermione's eyes widen. "He got the wrong bed".

"Oh Harry," his friend exhaled, reaching out to grasp his hands, placing them on his knees as she stared at him. She didn't say anything else at first, the two of them just sitting there in the quiet common room as Ron's voice telling the story of his near-death experience reached their ears. "I- what are we going to do? He's a Death Eater, we can't fight him on our own". Harry blinked up at her in shock, making her roll her eyes at him. "I made you promise not to go after him, Harry, but if he can get into the Tower-" she faltered as Harry flinched.

"I'm cold, Hermione," he admitted slowly.

"You're only wearing a shirt and pyjama pants," Hermione pointed out, "We can move closer to the fire?"

"No, I'm cold," Harry repeated, tugging a hand free to rub his chest, "In here".

Hermione's hands tightened around the hand she still held, making Harry grimace and wiggle his fingers so she'd loosen her grip a little. "I don't know what to do," he continued, "He's trying to kill me, he almost succeeded. If he can get into the Tower then how can I stop him? I'm only a third year".

Feeling the sudden urge to be alone, Harry tugged his hand free and climbed off the window sill, heading up the spiral staircase and into his dormitory. Footsteps behind him made him climb onto his bed and sit cross-legged, staring at the torn hangings on Ron's bed as he felt Hermione climbing onto the bed beside him.

"I don't want to die," he confessed slowly, "I haven't thought about it ever since I met Hagrid". Ignoring Hermione's startled gasp beside him, Harry shifted until his legs were tucked against his chest and he could rest his chin on his knees again. "I'm happy here, I have you and Ron, and magic. I don't want to die".

"You- You're not going to die, Harry," Hermione insisted weakly from beside him.

"Aren't I?" he shot back, turning his head just enough so he could watch her. "You said yourself. Black's a Death Eater, I can't fight him on my own".

"I said '_we_ can't fight him on _our_ own'," Hermione corrected with a sniff, "You threw yourself onto a troll's back to save me, what kind of friend would I be if I left you to fight Black on your own? I love my parents, Harry," she continued, "If someone killed them, then I wouldn't hesitate to get revenge. What kind of person would I be if I stopped you?"

"A stinky one," Harry muttered under his breath, making Hermione snort in amusement. "You mean it? You'll help?"

"I won't help you _find_ him," Hermione corrected firmly, "But if he were to find _us_, then I'd hold him down for you".

A weak smile flashing across his face for a moment, Harry pulled himself off the bed and padded over to Ron's. "Why didn't he kill me?" he asked slowly as he ran his fingers along the torn edge of the curtain, "Why didn't he just silence Ron and come after me?"

"Well Ron said he had a knife, maybe he doesn't have a wand?" Hermione suggested, Harry shrugging at her answer.

"Good," Harry declared firmly, "It'll make killing him easier".

"Harry," Hermione said warningly.

"What? You said you'd help," Harry countered defensively.

"I did," Hermione agreed. "But others haven't," she explained simply, looking towards the open dormitory door pointedly, "I doubt they'd understand. We _are_ plotting murder here after all".

She had a point, Harry realised as he backed up to sit on his bed again. Then again, Hermione normally had a point. Not moving as he felt her shuffling up his bed to sit beside him, resting her head against his shoulder, Harry just sighed and leaned against her as well.

"Do you think Ron's realised it yet?" he asked slowly.

"That the food's not going to vanish if he doesn't shovel as much of it in his mouth as he humanly can?" Hermione questioned bluntly.

"That Black was after me, not him," Harry corrected, face scrunching up in disgust at his friend's eating habits. "He seemed pretty content soaking up all the attention everyone's giving him," he clarified when he felt Hermione frowning against his shoulder, "And I don't think he's ever going to learn to slow down when eating. I've eaten at the Burrow before, they're all like that".

"Explains a lot," Hermione muttered under her breath, "And no. I don't think he'll realise it until someone points it out to him, he's usually rather dense like that".

"You can say that again," Harry deadpanned.

"He's usually rather dense like that," Hermione repeated. "What? I've been waiting to say that for ages," she explained when Harry shot her a look, "You can't deny it, Ron's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box".

"You've been in a rather bad mood with him lately," Harry noticed.

"He's taking Crookshanks out on me, it's not my fault that cats eat rats," Hermione exclaimed angrily, "And it's not like he's going after all rats. That girl in fourth year, Miranda something? She's got two rats and yesterday I caught Crookshanks _bathing_ one of them. So it's only Scabbers that he doesn't like".

As the two of them made themselves more comfortable, leaning against Harry's headboard, the boy in question found his mind heading towards uncomfortable territory. Hermione had said they were plotting murder, and while she was correct, Harry was concerned about why neither of them were worried about it. Planning to kill someone was something rather big, shouldn't there be _some_ hesitance? Shouldn't one of them be trying to talk the other of taking another's life? Looking down at Hermione who was still slumped against his side, quietly talking about something she'd learned in Ancient Runes, Harry was a little shocked to find himself glad she wasn't trying to stop him. Ron would try, the red-head had already brought up his dislike of Harry's desire for vengeance – although Ron's dislike was more centred around the fact that Black was dangerous and not because Harry wanted to kill Black.

"We should learn some new spells," he said suddenly, interrupting Hermione mid-sentence. "You were right, we can't fight him on our own. We should learn some new spells," he explained. "We can't exactly beat him with '_expelliarmus_' can we?"

"No. I guess we can't," Hermione agreed unhappily, "What kind of spells were you thinking of?" she asked hesitantly.

"Duelling spells," Harry said simply, shrugging as she glanced up at him. "Maybe we could try find a list of the spells Aurors are taught," he suggested, making Hermione relax with a sigh.

"Maybe we can," she agreed, "You know what this means right?"

"We need to go to the Library," Harry confirmed, "Don't worry Hermione, I'm sure I won't burst into flames at the sight of all those books. I'm not a vampire entering a church you know, I can handle a little sun".

* * *

**WAKE-UP CALL**

* * *

_So this is a story born of my desire to write ideas that don't start in 4th/5th year like mine normally do._


	88. Chills

**CHILLS**

* * *

Now what?

Ron was off in cuckoo-land by his feet, Sirius Black had turned into a giant dog and chased Professor Lupin off into the forest, and Snape was still hanging – unconscious – in the air over by the still frozen Whomping Willow.

Exchanging a look with the slightly dirty and ruffled Hermione, Harry saw the same question in her eyes. They were alone, confused, and neither of them knew what to do next.

And then they heard it.

Head snapping around, Harry stared off into the forest nervously, the sound of a dog yelping in pain sending shivers down his spine. Sirius would be fine fighting a werewolf right? He was a fully grown wizard, and that dog animagus form of his looked down-right vicious, he should be able to hold his own shouldn't he?

Turning to Hermione as another yelp echoed, he took one look at the ready expression on her face before he was moving, breaking into a run towards Black's location, near what sounded like the lake. Cresting the top of a hill with Hermione mere steps behind him, Harry froze as he watched Sirius slowly transforming back into a human, with Moony standing over him snarling.

A spell flying from the tip of his wand before Harry knew what he was doing, he swallowed nervously as it splashed uselessly against the werewolf's chest, serving only to draw the beast's attention to himself. "Come on," he murmured to himself, watching fearfully as the former Professor Lupin looked between Harry and the weakly stirring Sirius, the werewolf finally making its mind up and turning to face Harry completely. "Good boy," he said simply, before freezing as he realised that he didn't exactly know any spells that could slow a werewolf down let alone defeat one.

But it seemed like he didn't need them, as Moony's head snapped around harshly, Harry's breath coming out as a fine mist as the werewolf gave a full body shudder and fled – sprinting right past Harry and Hermione without a backwards glance. Feeling the cold without fully comprehending what it meant, the two of them exchanged looks before darting towards the prone form of Sirius who was trembling and moaning quietly.

"Nooo… nooo…" the prisoner groaned as Harry tried to roll him over, "Run… run".

"Harry".

Looking up at Hermione's whisper, Harry felt the cold stabbing into his stomach as he saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, spiralling around the Black Lake that they were on the shore of. They were being surrounded, the familiar icy cold penetrating his insides as Hermione whimpered beside him.

"Think… think of something happy," he ordered as he raised his wand, struggling to clear his mind and focus on a happy thought strong enough to fuel a Patronus.

'_I'm leaving the Dursleys. I'm going to go live with Sirius, with family who loves him'_.

"Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!"

Chanting the incantation desperately, Harry forced himself to think of Sirius and only of Sirius. Trying to pretend not to notice the way his godfather shuddered and rolled onto his back with a dog-like whine, he kept up the chant. "Her- Hermione help me! Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum! Hermione!" he cried, risking a glance over at his friend just in time to see the weakly casting girl collapse forward against his side in a dead faint.

He couldn't fail, he couldn't give up. If he failed here then he'd be failing not only himself, but also Sirius and Hermione, both who would be at danger from the dementors that were approaching in a thick heavy wall around them.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry screamed, raising his voice intentionally to try block out the sound of his mother's screaming and Voldemort's high-pitched voice casting the Killing Curse. A wisp of silvery mist erupted from the tip of his wand suddenly, the dementor before him freezing, unable to pass through the feeble light of his formless Patronus.

Barely illuminated by the light cast by his Patronus, Harry watched as a dead slimy hand stretched out from beneath the dementor's cloak, reaching for the silver wisp as if to just push it aside. He could feel hundreds of eyes drilling into him, their rattling breathing only muted by the screaming in his ears as the dementor in front of him instead reaching up to pull its hood down to reveal its face – or what _should_ have been a face. Instead there were empty eye sockets with scabbed skin stretched across them, a wide gaping circular hole where the mouth should have been.

And that was it. With the dementor's true face staring him down, Harry felt the sheer and utter _terror_ it invoked him in overpowering the weak happiness he felt. His Patronus dying and leaving him defenceless, a fine white mist began to cloud over his vision as rotting hands latched onto his chin. As his face was turned upwards towards the only thing he could truly see – the dementor – Harry felt the terror in his chest fading away and leaving behind an aching _numbness_.

His own hands raising, Harry grasped the dementor's wrists and just _pushed_ at the numbness, following some strange instinct. Ice cracked around him, and for a moment Harry's vision cleared enough to reveal a sculpture made of shining crystal, a statue that resembled a dementor too much to be coincidental. Before he had the time to try comprehend the dementor ice sculpture he was still holding by the wrists, more hands were grabbing onto him and pulling him away, a second dementor appearing in his line of sight and pulling him down.

Just as the dementor's '_lips_' brushed against his face, there was a light. A soft white-blue, the light grew brighter and brighter until even the dementor attempting to Kiss him stopped to look. Feeling himself falling into oblivion, Harry barely noticed that the dementor had released him and that they were all turning to flee, only for an almost intangible _wave_ of the blue-white light to roll over Harry and freeze them all in place.

What happened next, Harry didn't know, as his head fell back and his body went limp. A single figure visible standing in front of the source of the light wavered as his vision blurred and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

* * *

"Harry… there's something I don't understand," Hermione was saying, "Why didn't the dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out… there were so many of them".

Sagging back to collapse against a tree, watching the full moon beginning to rise in the distance, Harry could only shrug. "I don't know," he confessed, "I remember the dementor almost Kissing me, and then there was ice… everything froze".

"Froze!" Hermione echoed, startling Harry who blinked at her in confusion. "The Minister was talking about 'dark magic'," she explained with a roll of her eyes and air quotes, "He said something had _frozen_ the dementors and Dumbledore had to show him the echoes in our wands to prove that we hadn't used dark magic on them. _I_ thought he meant some kind of petrification spell, but he actually meant they were frozen in _ice_!"

"That's not all," Harry interrupted nervously, "_I_ did it".

"You what?" Hermione asked, staring at him in confusion.

"_I_ did it. I froze the dementors!" Harry blurted, "Well at least I froze _one_ of them. I grabbed its wrists and I panicked, then it just turned into a statue made of ice".

"But the others?"

"They weren't me," Harry denied, "There was this _huge_ wave of blue magic from across the lake that froze the rest of them".

"But who did it? Who cast it? And what kind of magic _was_ that?" Hermione questioned curiously, biting her lip as she clearly struggled to find an answer.

"I uh… I think I saw them," Harry admitted slowly. He _had_ seen someone there, he knew that. But what he didn't know, was _how_ he had seen them. It was impossible wasn't it? No magic could bring back the dead, as Dumbledore had told him back in first year, so how was it possible that he of all people could have saved them?

"You did? What did they look like? Was it a teacher? Was it _Snape_?" Hermione pressed.

"I might have imagined it," he defended quickly, "I passed out almost instantly afterwards, and I could barely see in the first place. I might have mistaken them for someone else".

"Harry?"

I think… I think it was my Dad," he blurted, staring down at the ground between his feet as he felt Hermione's eyes burning into him. "I know it sounds mad," Harry added quickly when he looked up, flinching at the look of alarm and pity in Hermione's eyes, "But I know what I saw. Well… I know what I _think_ I saw. And I saw me standing there with my arms outstretched, and since I was passing out at the time it can't have been _me_!"

"Was he a ghost?"

"Maybe?" Harry answered with a simple shrug, "He looked solid, but I dunno".

And truly he didn't. Something deep inside him was telling him that he was wrong, that it wasn't his father. But at the same time he couldn't deny what he'd seen. He'd seen himself standing there, but he'd had brilliant blue eyes that matched the magic he'd hurled at the dementors to save their lives. And Harry's eyes weren't blue, they were green, and he'd never seen that kind of… _ice magic_… before tonight so there was no way it'd been him.

Thankfully Hermione didn't bring it up again, instead changing the subject to begin talking more about the time turner. She'd explained more about how she'd used it to get to all of her classes. Harry hadn't been listening, not entirely, just enough that he could respond appropriately when it was time. Afterwards he'd only blink at her blankly and shrug when she asked his opinion about a question she'd asked him, everything she'd said having gone in one ear and out the other.

And then it was time.

They watched as their past selves had clambered out of the Whomping Willow, Snape floating between them and Pettigrew tied up. They watched as the moon came out from behind some clouds and Professor Lupin transformed. They watched as Pettigrew escaped again, Hermione putting her hand on Harry's arm and shaking her head when he made to go after the rat.

"Come on," Hermione whispered finally, "We need to get ready. We need to go save Sirius".

Nodding weakly, trying to fight back the urge to vomit at the way they were just sitting there and watching, Harry followed his best friend down to the lake's shore and ducked into a bush with her. "It happens there," he mumbled, eyes locking onto a place near the shoreline just before, "That's where He appears. My Dad".

"Oh Merlin," Hermione choked, pulling Harry attention back across the lake to themselves, to where he could see his own pitiful attempts at a Patronus. "This looks horrible, I don't thi- I don't think I can watch," she rasped out as her past self fainted.

"You have too! You'll see!" Harry insisted, pulling her hands away from her eyes and making her watch. "Look! There I go!" he added nervously as he watched himself latching onto a dementor, turning into an ice sculpture in a flash of white-blue light. "He looks like me," he murmured as he caught sight of the brief blue sheen to his past self's eyes.

Harry's eyes were blue… they were green. But James Potter's eyes were _brown_.

It hadn't been his father.

It had been him.

Shoving Hermione off him as she tried to stop him, Harry launched himself out of the bushes and shot down to the shore of the lake, instinctively putting one foot in the water as he reached deep inside himself. Mustering up every feeling he'd ever felt, every ounce of magic he possessed, Harry forced the cold ache in the middle of his chest to stir – grabbing onto it with both metaphorical hands as he hunched in on himself before flinging his arms wide with a roar.

And there was light. Blue-white _power_ radiating from his body in a wave, glistening ice rolling across the lake like an avalanche. He could feel the energy leaving him rapidly, pouring out from his heart and forcing the dementors to either flee or turn to ice. When his power hit his past self, Harry watched blindly as a shimmering dome appeared around him that covered both Sirius and Hermione, that single act wiping his past self out to the point that he joined his best friend and godfather in unconsciousness. Lowering his arms as the power stopped flowing through him, Harry glanced down at his feet to see the entire lake had frozen solid and more, the ice climbing back up onto the bank and spreading behind him.

Hermione was safe, at least, Harry mused as he watched his friend hanging awkwardly from a low-hanging branch – icicles hanging from her damp hair and a faint blue colouration spread across her checks as she stuttered out warming charm after warming charm.

"It wasn't my Dad," he blurted dumbly, "It was me".

The look Hermione sent him screamed 'You think?' as he ducked back behind the trees with her, watching as Snape staggered into the clearing and started conjuring stretchers for them. "How… how did you do that?" she asked slowly as Snape levitated the three of them from the clearing, ducking and waving between the frozen dementor statues.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, his attention being drawn to where his hand was resting on the trunk of the tree they were hiding behind, watching the ice slowly crawling across its surface. "I really don't know". Ignoring the looks Hermione was sending him, Harry shook his head and began backing away from the tree, "Come on," he instructed, "We have a criminal to bust out of prison".

* * *

**CHILLS**

* * *

_Based off my own "_Cool as Ice" _challenge, found on my forum (Link in my profile page). It took me a while to find the place in the story I wanted to, and _then_ it took me even longer to decide whether to base this off my _"Cool as Ice"_ challenge or my _"Fire Solves Everything"_ challenge - fire vs ice being quite the difficult choice for me to make. Either way, I decided, and I think I'm kind of proud with what I got._


	89. Speaker

**SPEAKER**

* * *

"You're a bloody _Parselmouth_! Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" Harry asked dumbly, finding himself looking between the terrified looking Ron and the pale looking Hermione in confusion.

"A _Parselmouth_!" Ron exclaimed, "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know?" Harry said slowly, not entirely sure what the big fuss was about. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once – long story – but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was being I knew I was a wizard".

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron echoed weakly.

"So?" Harry asked defensively, "I bet loads of people here can do it!"

"Oh no they can't," came the correction. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad".

"Why is this bad?" Harry demanded, getting a little angry with his friend's reaction. "What's wrong with you all? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin-"

"Oh? Is that what you said to it?" Ron interrupted.

"What d'you mean? You were _there_! You heard me!"

"I heard you speaking _Parseltongue_!" Ron argued, "Snake language? You could have been saying anything. No wonder Justin panicked. You sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was creepy, you know".

Harry stared. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you people?" he shouted, pushing himself up out of the armchair and beginning to pace. "I speak to animals _all_ the time and you all don't care! But the moment I speak to one little snake, you all freak out!"

"You speak to animals all the time? This isn't having a one-sided conversation with Hedwig, Harry," Hermione corrected gently. "Being able to talk to snakes is what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin house is a _serpent_".

"One-sided conversations?" Harry echoed dumbly, blinking at his friends in shock and hurt. "You don't believe me?"

"Believe you about what?" Ron asked, exchanging a confused look with Hermione.

"I _told_ you I could talk to Hedwig! And you don't believe me!" Harry exclaimed, "They're not one-sided conversations! I talk to her, and I hear her voice! In here!" he explained pointing at his head, "That's why I told you she chose her own name! I listed some out and she chose Hedwig".

"You can't talk to owls, Harry," Hermione corrected. "There's no 'Owlseltongue', it's just not possible".

"It's not just owls," Harry snapped, "I can talk to most animals! Birds, dogs, rats – not Scabbers though for some reason – cats. That's why Mrs Norris and Fang like me so much," he added as his friends exchanged another look, "Because I can actually _talk_ to them!"

"Harry… it's not that we don't believe you," Ron began.

"But you don't believe me," he finished for his 'friend'. "What if I told you that your owl? Errol? He's second-hand from a wizarding family that used to live next to the Burrow. But the wife died so the husband moved in with his son and daughter-in-law, they didn't need an extra owl so they gave him to your family. His real name is 'Sir Didymus'," he growled, crossing his arms with a scowl.

"Like in Labyrinth?" Hermione questioned.

"_Exactly_ like in Labyrinth!" Harry confirmed, "The wife had two pet kneazles named 'Sarah' and 'Jareth'".

"I love that movie".

"I've only read the book," Harry confessed, "And don't look at me like that, I can read".

"HELLO?" Ron interrupted, "Can we please get back to you being a Parselmouth here?"

"I'm _not_ a Parselmouth!" Harry shouted back, the raven-haired wizard beginning to lose his temper, "I'm uh… I'm a…"

"A 'zoolinguist'?" Hermione offered, "A combination between 'zoo' for animal and 'linguist' for language? Like Doctor Dolittle. A muggle fictional character," she clarified when Harry and Ron stared at her. "He has the ability to speak to animals".

"So you believe me now?" Harry asked coolly.

"Of _course_ I do," Hermione assured him automatically. "I thought you were just, you know, talking _at_ Hedwig. I didn't know you were actually talking _to_ her. There's a difference you know".

"I don't need to talk," Harry admitted sheepishly, "But back at muggle school people used to look at me weird if I sat there staring at animals, talking to them was allowed though".

"So?" Ron interrupted again, "What does it matter you don't need to speak out loud? You're a bloody _Parseltongue_! Shouldn't we be focusing on that?"

"Do you _ever_ listen Ronald?" Hermione snapped, "Parseltongues speak to _snakes_. Harry here can talk to _any_ animal, therefore he can't be a Parseltongue can he?"

"Maybe Parseltongues can speak to other animals then too!" Ron argued.

"Or maybe people like Harry can speak to _snakes_ too!" Hermione shot back, "Why does he have to be a Parseltongue just because he can speak to snakes?"

"Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue and _he_ could speak to snakes".

"Oh Merlin you're a complete and utter idiot," Hermione exhaled, blinking at Ron in shock, ignoring the way the red-head's face turned a brilliant scarlet to match his hair. "Come on Harry, we're going to the library, maybe we can find some books on zoolingualism".

"Okay," Harry agreed quietly, letting his friend hook her arm in his and start dragging him towards the portrait entrance.

Looking over his shoulder as they vanished out into the halls, Harry couldn't help but flinch at the angry look on Ron's face. It hadn't looked like his friend was going to react badly to his gift, not until Hermione had called him an 'idiot' at least. But why hadn't Ron been able to accept that Harry could speak to animals? Neither of his friends had treated him any differently last year when he'd told them about it after they'd caught him talking to Hedwig.

Sighing, Harry turned his attention back to what Hermione was saying. Wizards were so confusing sometimes.

* * *

**SPEAKER**

* * *

_So this is just a short preview based off my own _"Speaker"_ challenge. I probably could have continued it, but I decided not to, as the next section would be the part where basically the whole plot is spelled out for you and I don't want to give away something I might potentially use later._

_ALSO! I've put a poll up on my profile regarding this coming 'Memorial Day' (The Halloween on which James and Lily Potter gave their lives for their son), so throw in your votes for which story you'd like to see being written! The poll will be closed officially on the 20__th__ of October, but I'll be working on each idea anyway so I'll definitely have something to post on the 31__st__._


	90. Potions

**POTIONS**

* * *

The funny thing was that after four years in the wizarding world, Harry James Potter didn't see what came next until it was right on top of him.

He was used to things happening with a bang, or a crash. Like back before even first year, when Hagrid had literally smashed down the door to get to him. There was the loud shattering of porcelain and wood that signalled his best friendship with Hermione, when the troll he'd locked in with her tried to smush her. There was even the loud rumbling of the footsteps of the entire school when Harry and co had discovered Mrs Norris petrified.

He wasn't going to mention the loud thud of Cedric's body hitting the ground, or the explosions that followed when Voldemort tried to kill him (again). He'd been seeing those two events happening in his nightmares every night so he _really_ didn't need to be reminded.

But still, Harry's point stood. In the wizarding world things happened with a bang, so he could be forgiven if he missed what only made a whisper before striking.

Well, maybe it wasn't a whisper. More like... a knock.

_Knock._

_Knock._

_Knock._

Three knocks, to be specific.

Eyeing the door cautiously, Harry slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, moving the book from his chest and shoving it under his pillow just in case. Who in Merlin's name could _that_ be? His relatives? Yeah right, they never knocked, they normally just burst into his room whenever they pleased. Besides, Vernon and Dudley weren't even home, being either at work or practicing crime respectfully.

Oh! It might be Remus. The werewolf had promised to drop in the next time he was in the area on the 'super secret Harry Potter guard duty' that was 'super secret' and Harry wasn't supposed to know about.

Opening the door, Harry found his face falling upon seeing that it wasn't Professor Lupin, instead finding himself face-to-face with his Aunt. "Since when do _you_ knock?" he asked in way of greeting, suspiciously taking in the way Petunia was fidgeting and wishing she could be anywhere else.

"I knock because the last time I went wherever I wanted in my _own home_ I interrupted someone in the midst of doing... _that_," Petunia shot back, both blushing and going pale at the same time.

Harry could only blink, "Doing what?" he questioned as he strained to remember the last time he'd performed magic. It'd been on the Hogwarts Express, when he'd cast a lightening charm on his trunk. He definitely hadn't done anything magical when his 'family' were home. "I can't use mag- _that_ outside of school remember?"

"What all you teenage boys do," Petunia sniffed, _definitely_ going pale this time. "And it wasn't talking about you," she added, eyes darting left towards the closed door to his cousin's roo- _OH..._

"What do you want?" he demanded gruffly, "Or are you just trying to make me sick?"

Petunia glared. "You do... potions... at that school of yours don't you?" she asked stiffly, looking like she'd rather barge into Dudley's room when he was 'petting the Hippogriff' than stay here talking to him.

"I do".

"And do you have to buy your own... ingredients?" Petunia pressed, suddenly sounding nervous. "Ones like... nightshade for example? Or hemlock root?"

Harry just blinked, "Those are both poisonous," he pointed out hesitantly. His Aunt wouldn't try poison him would she? He expected something like that from his Uncle, but Petunia would at least have enough dignity to buy the poison somewhere else right? Instead of using his own poisons against him.

"I know," Petunia ground out, "Do you have any?"

"What I don't, I can owl-order," Harry confessed slowly, leaning against the side of his doorway. "What do you need them for?" he asked curiously.

"Never you mind that," Petunia snapped, back to her old self suddenly. "I can pay you for them, but I need them by the weekend".

"And I can get them for you by the weekend if you tell me what they're for," Harry countered with a snort, "Do you really think I'm going to buy you potions ingredients, _poisonous_ potion ingredients, just because you want them?"

Petunia glared at him once more, her jaw tightening as she looked away. "I had hoped," she admitted slowly, "I'll pay double if you don't ask questions".

"I'll buy them myself if you tell me what you want them for," Harry bartered, "Technically buying potions ingredients for a muggle is illegal, especially since I'm underage. I want proof you're not trying to screw me over," he insisted as Petunia opened her mouth to argue, "Funnily enough I don't actually care about why you want them".

He probably should be more concerned about it, but his gut told him that his Aunt wasn't going to poison him with them. And if he wasn't going to get poisoned, he didn't really see any reason _not_ to buy the ingredients for her, as a muggle it wasn't like she'd be able to brew potions with them anyway. Nightshade and hemlock root weren't exactly things you'd make herbal tea out of either, not unless you were actually trying to murder someone.

"Unless of course you're going to try to kill someone," he added suddenly, that thought ringing a bell in his head.

With a slow sigh, Petunia shook her head simply, gesturing for him to follow her down the hallway and into the master bedroom. "I'm not going to try kill you, or anyone," she promised coldly, "They're for Dudley and I".

"Killing yourself counts as murder," Harry deadpanned, "In the wizarding world at least".

"It's not for killing anyone," Petunia repeated with a scowl, "Now are you coming in or not?"

Biting back the urge to let out a sigh of his own, Harry cautiously entered the master bedroom, watching as his Aunt opened the trapdoor into the attic and pulled down a ladder. "I'm not allowed in the attic," he pointed out slowly, "You've made me clean in here a couple of times, but I'm not allowed in the attic on pain of death, remember?"

The angry flush on his Aunt's cheeks implied that she _did_ remember outright threatening to drown him in the kitchen sink should he ever ask about the attic again. "Times change," she growled, "You must swear to never tell _anyone_ about this," she ordered. "Not any of your freaky little friends, not your freaky little Ministry. And _especially_ not Vernon or Dudley".

"Well I think Dudley deserves to know if you're going to poison him".

"I AM NOT GOING TO POISON HIM!" Petunia roared, making Harry flinch back in shock as she cleared her throat. "Now get upstairs," she spat, turning and climbing up the ladder with a final glare in his direction.

Palming his wand before following her up, Harry squinted around the dark attic as a small light flared from where he could see Petunia's shadow. "I can see why I'm not allowed up here," he drawled sarcastically, "So many of your dirty little secrets I might tell 'my kind' about".

His Aunt pushing past him with a weak lantern in her hands, Harry kept looking around curiously for the real reason he wasn't allowed up there, letting his Aunt continue going around switching on the battery powered lights set up around the room. Seriously though, what _was_ so special about this place? Both he and his Aunt were hunched over to avoid hitting their heads on the roof, the room itself was only a little bigger than his bedroom in terms of length not width, and there was no natural light at all.

"It only lasts three hundred days," Aunt Petunia said suddenly, making Harry glance over to where she was opening one of two large black safes. "Meaning ever three hundred days I need to remake it and drink it. Dudley however has to drink it every one hundred and fifty days, since he only has half of my DNA".

"My condolences," Harry muttered under his breath, smiling innocently as his Aunt turned to glare at him with a thin black book in her arms. "What's that?"

"A recipe book," his Aunt claimed simply, moving past him to set it down on the table opposite the safes.

"Right. Because the Evans family brownies are never the same without nightshade and hemlock root to give them their minty aftertaste," Harry agreed casually.

"When did you become so sarcastic?" Petunia asked distastefully, eyeing him like he was a total stranger.

"It's a Potter thing, apparently. My godfather tells me that my Dad was quite the sarcastic prat," Harry explained with a grin, ignoring the flicker of 'weird' in his chest at sharing that with Petunia of all people. "He said my father would be ashamed of me if I kept biting my tongue, that he would want me to use all my 'gifts' to their full capabilities".

Petunia just stared at him, a look crossed between horror and confusion trapped on her face. "I don't like it," she said finally, scrunching her nose up and turning back to her book. "This is why I want the nightshade and hemlock root," she declared, jabbing her finger down at a page. "You can look, just don't touch," she allowed as he began moving closer.

"Sight Blinding Potion," Harry read aloud dumbly, slowly turning to stare at his Aunt who was firmly refusing to meet his eyes. "You're a witch too," he realised slowly, "You and Dudley? But no... how is that possible?" he demanded angrily, the lanterns around the room flickering as his magic started bubbling in his chest.

"I am _not_ a witch," Petunia spat, her face twisting in fury as her hand rose, the woman clearly restraining herself from slapping him. "And neither is Dudley. You're the only freak in this house".

"Says the woman with a book full of potion recipes!" Harry shot back, "You do realise that if you tried to make a potion and drank it then you'd die right?" he pressed making his Aunt flinch. "You're a muggle! You don't have the magic to make them work; it'd just be a glass full of nightshade and hemlock root!"

"_ENOUGH_!" Petunia snarled, slapping her hand down on the table. "I am _not_ a witch, nor is Dudley a- a wizard! We may be _cursed_ with magic, but that doesn't make us _anything_ like you!"

Harry couldn't reply, being frozen in place and watching his Aunt in a mixture of shock and anger. "You... you have magic," he exhaled slowly, the lights beginning to waver again as his own magic surged up again, "You're a witch too, and you treat me like _shit_ because of it?" He must have been angrier than he's even been, because instead of shouting like he thought he would be, the rage that was filling him was cold and calm.

"Oh, if _only_ I was a witch," Petunia sneered, backing away from Harry and crossing her arms. "Although, I'd rather be a _squid_".

"Squib," Harry corrected on automatic.

"Whatever. My _perfect_ sister was a witch," Petunia dismissed, "The first in the family, our parents were _so_ proud. Their youngest daughter; a witch in a family of Clairvoyant".

At his Aunt's announcement, Harry was torn between awe and pity. Clairvoyant were a people of their own, ones outside the control of the Ministry of Magic (despite their numerous attempts at it). They were also a race of drunken lunatics to the intensity of the visions that plagued them daily.

"How do you survive?" he blurted, "I've never seen you even _pick up_ a bottle of alcohol, you make Vernon get his own".

"I survive because I take _that_ potion," Petunia confessed, looking slightly mollified by the shocked awe in his voice. "It blinds my inner eye. And it blinds Dudley's inner eye, not that he knows he even possesses one," she explained tightly, "Clairvoyant have just enough innate magic to be able to brew potions, although I _was_ planning on hiring someone to brew a true sight stripping potion to remove Dudley's gift permanently before his sixteenth birthday like my parents refused to do for me".

"But how? There's no such thing as a 'Sight Blinding potion'," Harry pointed out curiously, "Otherwise Clairvoyant everywhere would be using it. The best they can manage is a twenty-four hour numbing potion, even then it doesn't stop the visions properly and just blurs them".

"It's a family potion, one that's been passed down the family for as long as our family have been Clairvoyant," Petunia admitted, "It lasts for three hundred days, and on the three hundred and first day I'll slip into a coma as I suffer vision after vision until I make up for everyone missed while on the potion".

"And you're willing to _risk_ that?" he blurted.

"What other choice do I have?" Petunia asked simply, face sorrowful as she stared past him at the recipe book.

Following her eyes, Harry glanced over the ingredient list before nodding. "I can get you these by the end of the week," he promised slowly, "And I think... I think I might be able to brew it for you if you want".

* * *

**POTIONS**

* * *

_So oh my god! This is my ninetieth chapter for my Lost Files, meaning I have just TEN CHAPTERS TO GO before I reach 100!_


	91. Frostbite

**FROSTBITE**

* * *

The 1st of September was always a busy day, but this particular 1st of September put the other days to shame.

Crowds of witches and wizards were loitering around the station of the scarlet Hogwarts Express, all citing their nephew's/cousin's/nephew's friend's return to Hogwarts as the reason for their presence, despite the way their eyes were all locked on the barrier entrance of the station instead of said relative.

The reason for this was one Harry James Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived. He would be attending Hogwarts that year, and everyone was waiting anxiously for their first glimpse of the boy hero, to witness the return of He-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to the magical world where he belonged.

Of course, their wait would be in vain, not that they knew that though. Their target was already on the Hogwarts Express, having using floo travel to reach the station instead of using the enchanted barrier entrance. Having guessed what everyone was waiting for, he'd merely hunched himself over and slipped right past them all before anyone noticed the boy dressed head to toe in black clothing.

He was glad he'd succeeded too, the last thing he wanted was to be mobbed by the ridiculous citizens of the wizarding world. The sooner everyone forgot about Harry James Potter the better, in his opinion. The sooner they forgot about him, then the sooner he could fade back into the background to continue living his life the way he was destined to. He'd do his best to graduate from Hogwarts, and then he'd either find a job he could do from home or live off the considerable wealth his parents left him.

Either option was fine in Harry's eyes, as long as he was left alone, he'd be happy.

Not of course, that he believed he'd be left alone. He didn't want to know what the death toll would be by the time the train finally reached Hogwarts, he just knew that if adult wizards were stupid then younger ones would be of Dudley-level intelligence.

He'd tell them not to touch him, and they would.

They always did.

Pulling a book on defensive charms from the trunk at his side, Harry settled into wait. It brought him no pleasure to have to make an example of people, but he knew he would have no choice but to do so. He had ten years of experience that proved it, ten years of having no choice but to watch as the people around him destroyed themselves because they thought they knew better.

He was numb to it now. Or at least he told himself he was. It made it hurt a little less when someone inevitably forgot the unspoken rule and tried to touch him.

It didn't help much, but it helped some.

Gloved fingers tightening around the pages of the so-far useless book at the sound of the compartment door being swung open, Harry's jaw clenched as he heard someone clearing their throat expectantly, as if they were waiting for him to look up and acknowledge them. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to even _pretend _do that, a soft grumbling sounded from the doorway before the person standing there knocked loudly.

"Is anyone sitting there?" a voice asked impatiently, "Everywhere else is full".

Keeping his face blank, something Harry had years of practice in doing, he continued to ignore the boy standing in the doorway. He liked to hope that if he pretended the boy was there, then he'd go away. Instead the boy moved over to sit opposite Harry as if he'd received permission, a flash of red hair moving in his vision as the boy shoved his trunk up onto the luggage rack and sat down with a loud grunt.

"I'm Ron. Ron Weasley," the boy introduced, Harry just turning the page of his book silently in response. "Are you really Harry Potter?"

A fan. No surprises there.

"My Mum knew your parents before they died," Weasley continued loudly, "Well she didn't really know them, but she was in the same 'Healing Magicks' course at St. Mungo's as your Mum was, and they worked together once".

Oh yes, they must have been so close. Harry could see them now, knitting doilies and talking baby names. (He had a lot of time to develop a fine sense of sarcasm when he was on his own in the library, he was rather proud of it in fact).

"Anyway. Mum says that since you were raised by muggles – I can't imagine what they were like – that you probably don't know much about our world," Weasley added, apparently not noticing the way Harry had yet to acknowledge his existence. "I thought I'd just drop by and introduce myself, offer my help if you wanted to know how to avoid the _wrong_ sort. You'll probably be in Gryffindor with me anyway, your parents were both Gryffindors you see".

Ah. So this was the first person to try leeching off his 'fame', all Harry needed now was to hear the words-

"Hey. Do you really have the Scar? The one where You-Know-Who cast the… Can I see it?"

When Harry didn't answer, Weasley apparently decided that he was going to have a look on his own, as the boy stood and reached towards Harry's fringe. Quickly jerking his head back, Harry swatted the boy's hand with his rather thick book and glared, cold green eyes locking onto stubborn blue ones.

"Don't touch me".

"Don't be like that mate," Weasley exclaimed, his face turning as red as his hair as Harry swatted at his hand when he reached out once more. "I just want to see the Scar!"

"And _I_ don't want you to touch me," Harry snapped back, raising the book threateningly as he resisted the urge to curl up to present a small target. No more Mister Nice Harry. He wasn't going to roll over for anyone. He was done being the victim, the wizarding world had offered him a chance to live 'normally' and he was taking it with both hands.

All he had to do was find a cure and he'd be free. And if he had to walk over other people to get the cure then that's what he'd do. No more insisting they left him alone and just watching as they ignored him. He would give them three chances – no more, no less – and then he'd start showing them what he could really do. His experience in devouring the school library had translated across to his magical books, and although he knew he'd never be a student with perfect grades, he knew that he'd be at _least_ in the top ten because of his lack of distractions (read as "friends").

Weasley's eyes narrowed and his hand hovered there for a moment, Harry easily counting the seconds as he subtly slipped the glove off his own hand.

They both moved at the same time.

Their skin had barely been touching for seconds before Weasley was letting out a scream of pain, the red-head throwing himself backwards as Harry lowered his hand and casually shook his sleeve down over the exposed pale skin. It felt different this time. Being the one to do it, _choosing_ to hurt someone with his disease felt a lot better than watching helplessly as they were hurt anyway. It still wasn't something he ever believed he'd enjoy doing, but it was better them than him.

Watching with his perfected blank mask covering his face, Harry didn't bat an eye at the sight of the crystalline flesh on Weasley's hands, absently noting that the boy was rather lucky that it stopped near his wrist. He must have let go quickly then, considering the small distance the curse travelled and the lack of any other noticeable features.

"You should probably go find an adult," Harry suggested coolly as Weasley whimpered in pain, "It doesn't look _too_ deep and I'm sure they could fix it".

"I told you not to touch me," he added simply when Weasley looked at him in horror.

The red-head stumble-sprinting from the compartment, Harry let out a shuddering sigh as he slipped his hand free of his sleeve and stared at the ice-pale limb. Tugging his glove back on, he turned his attention out the window sadly, letting himself get lost in his thoughts as he kept an ear on the door.

As much as he hated his curse, he sometimes felt like he was too used to it to ever give it up.

It had happened for as long as he remembered, anything living that he touched froze, with people suffering the worst. The first symptom was a biting cold, one they felt even when touching him through his clothes. When they touched his bare skin though things changed, the cold struck hard and fast, freezing their very atoms into ice. Thankfully the limbs were salvageable even without magic, turning back to normal flesh after a while, but his 'victims' never fully recovered from the experience. People like his Uncle Vernon, who'd tried to throttle him when he was eight, _still_ couldn't use his right hand after it'd been frozen fully and it was even frostbitten once it turned back.

Weasley was lucky that Harry hadn't been holding onto him. A rather foul-smelling hairy man in a dress had tried to kidnap him once and he had grabbed the first thing he could – the man's face. Harry ran out of the alleyway leaving a man-shaped ice sculpture in two pieces behind him, he hadn't looked back or felt guilt over it either.

Picking up his book again, Harry returned to the section of elemental charms, part of him hoping that he might find a spell that could reduce if not bind his curse.

He doubted he'd find such a thing, but he could always hope.

* * *

**FROSTBITE**

* * *

_Based off DZ2's rather interesting "_Poisonous Touch_" challenge._

_I probably won't continue this one, but I thought it was too interesting to pass up writing at least a preview for it._


	92. Collar-full

**COLLAR-FULL**

* * *

Peter Burke was worried and afraid, and to make it worse he was feeling both emotions so strongly that he had a text ready to be sent to Jones signalling for backup.

A simple text saying "_Come home immediately_" was the cause of his – fully justifiable in his opinion – concern. Of course, it was made worse by the "_And bring Neal_" that his wife had tacked onto the end of it.

Since when did Elizabeth need Neal? Sure, he knew that his wife was strangely fond of the convicted felon, but why would she insist that Peter brought Neal home with him. And yeah, Peter knew that Neal was largely trying to turn over a new leaf, but that didn't mean he trusted the man to _not_ pocket anything valuable lying about even if only by old habit.

"Peter. You're brooding again".

Speak of the devil. No… Neal could probably sell the devil a vacuum and all fifty attachments that it didn't need for double the price… without breaking a sweat. Neal wasn't the devil… he was worse.

Could you tell that he didn't trust Neal?

"I'm not brooding," Peter denied simply, not exactly wanting to talk about his home life with the con-artist, no matter how helpful Neal had been in catching Ghovat. "I'm musing, thinking things over," he corrected.

"You're also frowning," Neal countered cheerfully, "And sending off more tension than a pubescent teenager".

"What do you know about teenagers?" Peter shot back, hands clenching around the steering wheel, "You hate kids remember?"

Neal was silent for a moment, making Pete glance over nervously. Oh Lord, he hoped he hadn't accidentally hit one of the man's triggers, he never really knew what he could or couldn't say that wouldn't set off a week full of elaborate pranks from a butt-hurt con-artist, Neal was just funny about some things like that. "I don't like children," the man finally said, making Peter relax in his seat in relief, "But teenagers? Teenagers aren't so bad, it's only when they're like five and they don't know how the world works yet that they start to annoy me. You can never con a child," he added, making Peter nod – the FBI agent having been waiting for a comment like that. "Teenagers are easy to trick, but children only really care about themselves, and most of what I say goes over their heads".

"Funny you say that," Peter began slowly, hiding his grin as he went to pull a 'Peter' on the ex-con, "Kate loves children doesn't she?"

"Nope, she hates them too," Neal corrected without hesitation, making Peter slump down with a pout before he could stop himself. "She never wanted to have them, she eventually wanted to foster a child from a home, but she would never actually have one herself. Sorry Peter, were you trying to surprise me?" the man added, teeth flashing in a grin as blue eyes flicked over to meet Peter's, "Were _you_, trying to surprise _me_, by knowing things about _my _life that you didn't think I knew you knew?"

"I caught you three times, Mr 'I'm such a smart con-man'," Peter shot back defensively.

"Caught three times by a man who's had his fly down all day," Neal murmured to himself, shaking his head in defeat as Peter scrambled to do up his zip, "You forgot to turn off your indicator when we pulled out of the office, by the way".

Peter Burke was now annoyed and embarrassed, and to make it worse he was annoyed and embarrassed _on_ _top of_ being worried and afraid for his wife. Funnily enough, all four feelings pretty much were brought into life by the con-artist sitting beside him. Damn that man for actually being strangely likeable.

"You missed your turn-off".

"Neal, I swear to God," Peter began, making Neal raise his hands defensively. "I'm going around in case they're watching the street".

Neal was quiet for only the space of a heartbeat before he was saying "You do realise she probably just wants to talk about the party she threw to catch Ghovat right?"

Hands tightening even further around his steering wheel, Peter clenched his jaw angrily. "I hate you," he muttered, unable to _not_ see Neal's smug grin from the passenger's seat. "I really, _really_, hate you".

"No you don't, Peter, and that's what you hate more".

"I _will_ pull this car over," Peter threatened, raising his finger and jabbing it in Neal's direction as if he were scolding a misbehaving child.

"As long as you remember you need to go left," Neal agreed innocently, "You still haven't turned off the indicator".

"I give up," Peter mumbled, "I give up. I'm working with a natural pain in the ass. Your charm isn't your gift, how annoying you are is".

It took way too long for Peter to pull up outside his home, a quietly grinning Neal lounging in his passenger's seat as Peter quickly peered around to ensure they weren't being watched. "Okay," he declared as he unbelted and checked his gun, "You're going in first," he announced making Neal's eyebrow raise at him. "That way when I'm proven right about this text being suspicious then _you're_ the one who gets shot in the ambush, not me," he explained, Neal's grin only growing.

The two of them exiting the car and heading up the stairs, Peter only found himself getting more and more annoyed by Neal's stubborn smile. What if he _was_ right? What if there _was_ someone in the house with a gun aimed at his wife's head? Neal would be walking in there with that big stupid grin on his face, and then what? It's not like he could use that smile to… oh… right. Neal used that smile on _everyone_ and it always seemed to get him what he wanted, the only people that look didn't work on were lesbians and Peter's boss. He couldn't even claim it didn't work on him, since well, he got Neal out of prison because of it didn't he?

"Honey! I'm home!"

Jaw dropping, Peter realised that Neal was _so_ _totally_ going to get himself killed, as the man adjusted his fedora on his head before throwing the door open and striding right into Peter's house. Of course, he'd be getting killed by _Elle_, instead of the bad guys, but still, dead.

Hand on his pistol, Peter moved in after Neal and could only watch as a fist slammed right into the pretty boy's face, knocking him to the ground and knocking his fedora into the air. As the attacker grinned and caught the fedora, sliding it onto his own head with a familiar flip, Peter's jaw dropped even further as he took in the black hair and con-artist smile the young man before him was sending down at the floored Neal.

"Nice hat".

"_HARRY!_"

"Sorry Elle, I had to get that over and done with," 'Harry' apologised to Peter's wife – who was surprisingly un-held-at-gunpoint. "If I didn't, it would just hang in the air and ruin the reunion".

"You ruined the reunion by _punching Neal_ _in the face_!" Elle exclaimed, looking rather disappointed at the young man who just shrugged in response.

"Elle, I think that if I hadn't punched him in the face then he would have just punished himself," the younger Neal Caffrey standing beside Peter's wife said casually, smiling that always infuriating smile and giving that blasted head tilt that screamed 'I'm adorable, love me' to any woman who laid eyes on him.

As expected, Elle just wilted under that look and gave Mini-Neal an understanding look, before pulling into a hug with a sad "Oh come here you". Deciding to just get it over and done with, Peter stepped forward to help the shell-shocked Neal to his feet, smiling bluntly at the man before drawing his own fist back and driving it into his reddening nose.

"That's for spawning," the FBI agent declared bluntly, feeling as if the world was collapsing around him at the idea that Neal Caffrey had a son.

"_PETER!_"

"Yeah, there's no excuse for that," Neal Junior deadpanned, "That was just rude".

"Oh you have no idea, Harry," Elle agreed coldly as it was Peter's turn to wilt under his wife's angry look, "I thought I trained him better than that".

"That's why I'll never settle down," Neal Junior said knowingly, nodding and studiously ignoring Neal Senior as the elder man stood. "If I've told Hermione once, I've told her a thousand times. Men are like utensils. You use them, wash them, and then put them right back in the drawer".

"Harry".

"What? Now you want to talk to me?" Harry demanded, turning a glare on Neal, "Huh? Because you didn't want to talk to me four years ago when you decided to _hand yourself in_, to_ him_ none the less!" he exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Peter.

"He didn't hand himself in," Peter argued automatically, "I caught him. Fair and square".

Faltering when Harry only sent him Neal's patented 'really' look in response, Peter watched as the young man turned back to glare angrily at Neal. "Do you know how it felt to get a letter from Mum telling me you'd handed yourself in? I had to sneak out of school to go see Mum, she was devastated! You didn't even think to tell _her_ of all people about it!" he shouted, making Neal flinch violently, "You just up and left! You abandoned us!"

"No I didn't!" Neal defended, still standing stiffly by Peter's side, "I handed myself in, so that once I completed my four year sentence we could all settle down! You think I _enjoyed_ dragging you and Kate around like that? Kate wanted stability! And you'd never admit it but you wanted it too!" Neal yelled, "I thought you two would wait for me and that we could be a proper family. It's not like we couldn't afford it, not if we sold everything in our stash!"

"Neal, honey," Elle interrupted suddenly, moving over the gently grab the man by the elbow. "I think the problem here is that you didn't say anything to them," she explained calmly, "If you had all sat down and spoken about it don't you think this would all have gone a little differently? Don't you agree?" she asked, making Neal nod slowly like a child. "And don't you agree that this is the first time you've seen your son in four years?"

When Neal nodded again, Elle nodded back, pushing him towards Harry slightly. "Then I hardly think that you should remember this as the day he punched you when it could quite easily be the first time in four years that you get to hold your son, right?"

The last word had barely left Elle's lips when Neal was lunging forward, lifting a yelping Harry off the ground in a hug that the young man quickly returned – the two clinging to each other desperately as Elle beamed at them both happily. "Fuck's sake Dad," Harry's voice whispered through the room, "I missed you so much".

Okay… maybe Peter felt a little guilty for locking Neal away now, but only a _little_ guilty. It was a shame father and son had to be separated, but the father was still a criminal. And to be fair, it was rather likely that the son was too, even if Peter were smart enough to not bring it up around Elle.

"So," Peter began slowly, "You spawned then?"

* * *

**COLLAR-FULL**

* * *

_Not an idea I'd continue until such a time that I owned the first series of White Collar (as opposed to watching it on Netflix), but I just loved the idea of a Neal/Harry father-son thing that I couldn't resist. Not that I'd resist anything that Neal wanted, because damn why are the hot ones always taken?_

_BTW. Bonus points to people who recognise the song._


	93. Mr Sparks

**MR. SPARKS**

* * *

"Mr. Sparks? Mr. Sparks! Over here!"

Biting back an annoyed sigh, Harrison J. Sparks felt his shoulders sagging mid-way through the gesture to accept the cup of steaming coffee being offered to him by the barrister.

"It's him again isn't it?" he asked the sympathetic looking woman, the pain in his voice clear.

"Do you want me to call security?" Lucy answered with a grimace, smiling gently at him as he nodded pathetically. "It's okay honey, just stay by the counter and they'll be here soon",

Mouthing his thanks to his favourite barrister, Harry shuffled over to the side and watched as Lucy changed places with a co-worker to hurry over to the phone. He didn't know what he'd do without her in his life, aside from die of coffee deprivation of course, she was always so much kinder than most of the other star struck people he met in his day-to-day life.

"Mr. Sparks?"

And then there was that guy.

Hand coming up immediately to knock the man's hand off course, Harry turned to lean against the counter with narrowed eyes, glaring at the short red-haired man who merely pouted at him in response.

"It's a surprise to see you, here, Mr. Sparks," the man began quickly.

"It's a surprise to see you too," Harry lied politely, "How's that court case going for you? Stalking again, wasn't it?"

"Oh it's nothing," Kristopher ("With a 'K') said dismissively, holding his hand out for Harry to shake and lowering it when the black-haired teen just raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of quick questions? My readers want to hear the facts straight from your mouth".

"Can I ask you a question first?" Harry countered uselessly, "What part of 'I have a restraining order against you' don't you understand?"

"How do you feel about the charges going against your mother for fraud?" Kristopher asked, completely ignoring Harry's reminder.

Harry would have loved to just punch the man in the face and be done with it, he _hated_ people coming after him for his so-called 'fame', but unfortunately for him being in the spotlight made getting away with that so much more difficult. Although... maybe his alleged mother's PR guy could spin that as a reminder that Harry _wasn't_ his 'mother' and thus was _not_ to be badgered over her show, she'd already asked that people left him alone even if idiots like Kristopher refused to do so.

"People are _always_ accusing my mother of being a fraud," he ground out instead, keeping an eye out for mall security. "If Mrs. Brown didn't want the news of her affair to be made public then perhaps she shouldn't have challenged my mother to find out her darkest secret in front of a live studio audience".

"But what about Emily Brown's accusations of your mother ruining her marriage?" Kristopher pressed eagerly, stepping forward into Harry's personal space as he held out a voice recorder. "How do you think this afternoon's court case will go?"

"Emily Brown's marriage was ruined when she jumped into her father-in-law's bed on multiple occasions and then confessed that in front of the aforementioned live studio audience," Harry corrected, trying to step away from the man boxing him in. "I have complete confidence in not only my mother but in the presiding Judge for this case," he added formally, having already been instructed on what to say by his mother.

"One last question," Kristopher pressed, shoving the recorder in Harry's face even more. "What do you think of- OOF"

"I'm listening," Harry deadpanned, smiling innocently at the second security guard as he stepped past Harry to help his partner handcuff the tackled reporter. "You guys are getting better and better at this," he praised as he watched them hauling Kristopher to his feet.

"Mr. Sparks! Mr. Sparks!"

"I lied. I'm not listening," Harry dismissed, nodding his cup of coffee towards the two familiar security guards, "Thanks, by the way".

"Come on Mr. Sparks, this isn't necessary is it?" Kristopher blurted desperately, struggling against the two beefy guys pinning his arms together behind his back. "There's nothing illegal about asking a few questions, they can't hold me for long".

"Stalking and breaking a restraining order _are_ illegal, Sir," Markus, the beefier of the two guards countered. "Sorry about this, Mr. Sparks".

Waving them off, Harry watched with a blank face as they started dragging the annoying reporter towards the coffee shop's door, unable to resist flicking his fingers and coughing a mild curse into his fist.

Shooting a 'thumbs up' at Lucy and starting for the door, Harry tugged his cap back onto his head as he stepped out into the sunlight of the open-roofed mall, hoping to get out before any of Kristopher's groupies showed up to try jump him again. Sarah – his 'mother' – had asked that he stayed on his best behavior while she was in court today, and personally he felt he'd done that, there was – after all – no way for the itching hex he'd hit Kristopher in the back with to be traced back to him even if it _was_ discovered.

By the Styx he hated the press.

Absently weaving an illusion around himself as he walked, Harry stepped into the corridor leading to the toilets and vanished in a tornado of emerald green smoke, reappearing without even a sign of a stumble in his bedroom in his sometimes home in LA.

"Hello the building!" he shouted as he let himself into the main part of the penthouse, "Anyone home? Mom One? Mom Two? Anyone?"

"I do wish you wouldn't call me that".

"Mom One," Harry greeted with a smile, turning to see his birth mother sitting daintily in her favourite armchair. "Lady Hecate," he corrected quickly when the woman shot him a warning look over her cup of tea, "Missed you," he added as he padded over to kiss her cheek.

"I missed you too baby, have you been behaving for your sister?" the goddess questioned, kissing his cheek back. "Don't answer that, you'd only lie to me anyway".

"Of course I'm behaving for Sarah," Harry defended, faking hurt as he pouted up at his mother, flopping down onto the divan beside her without spilling a drop of his coffee. "I could have cursed that reporter guy today and I chose not to".

"Uh-huh," his mother agreed skeptically as the goddess sent him a _Look_. "And that itching hex was what, exactly?"

"A hex, not a curse," Harry nitpicked, smiling innocently again (a move he'd practiced non-stop in a mirror until he'd perfected it), not at all surprised that Hecate knew where he'd just been.

His life was, in a word, complicated. To the public and their 'adoring fans', he was Harrison J. Sparks; son of the famous celebrity psychic, Sarah Sparks. But in reality, Sarah was nothing more than his half-sister, another half-blood child of Hecate; the Greek Goddess of Magic who he had been given to as a baby to raise after his adoptive family had died. She had done her best to raise him right until he was old enough to make his own decisions, then she had pursued her dream of being a star while he pursued his interests of learning magic in his bedroom and travelling the world at will.

In short, Harry basically had two mothers, both of whom loved him dearly and let him do whatever he wanted if he tilted his head just right and looked sufficiently pathetic.

The look he received for even trying to get out of it reeked of disappointment, "But an _itching hex_?" Hecate questioned, scrunching her face up in distaste. "What has Sarah been teaching you that you choose you use an _itching_ hex over something more entertaining?"

"Well I considered just turning him into an animal, but the mortals might have noticed that," Harry confessed bluntly, "We were receiving too much attention for me to use the Mist".

His mother just nodded in agreement at his defense, pausing for a moment to sip at her tea. Taking the chance to drink his coffee, Harry just basked in his birth mother's presence. With all her godly duties and the Olympian gods breathing down her neck, he knew that Hecate had very little time to spend with her children, so he took every opportunity he could to just enjoy her being around – especially since she'd been spending less time with him ever since he'd stopped needing constant watching.

"How is your training going Sweetie?" she asked curiously, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as he perked up eagerly, always happy to talk about magic with others.

"Sarah's got me working on self-transformation magic now," Harry said quickly, grinning at his mother when she smirked. "She says once I've got the hang of reversing a miscast spell then I can start learning how to shape shift into animals".

"And you haven't been reading ahead at all?" Hecate asked knowingly.

"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed, faking indignity. "Damn," he muttered seconds later, not even having believed his argument himself. "I'm being careful," he reassured his mother, "I'm not actually trying the spells, I'm just reading the theory".

"Well, that's alright then," the smiling goddess said simply. "And the Mist?"

"I can cloak an entire room," Harry admitted proudly, all but puffing his chest out smugly. "And I scared the crap out of Sarah by creating a lifelike Minotaur in the bathroom when she was in the shower".

Earning a chuckle at his words as well as a gentle ruffling of his hair, Harry couldn't help but preen as Hecate's musical laugh echoed through the room, his mother pausing mid-gesture and glancing over at the corner in time for a tornado of golden-yellow smoke to burst into existence.

"Harry are you- Mommy!"

Grinning at his half-sister as Sarah basically flew across the room to press her own kiss to Hecate's cheek and be kissed back in turn, Harry obediently shuffled over so the dark-haired star could sit on the divan as well.

"And how was court?" Hecate asked expectantly, raising an eyebrow at Sarah as Harry blinked at his empty hands and the cup of coffee mysteriously in Sarah's hand instead.

"Like taking candy from a baby," Sarah dismissed, "I didn't even need to speak after her husband confessed he'd arranged for the papers a month before the show".

"And did he?"

"As far as I know," Sarah confessed with a shrug, "I didn't have anything to do with it, if that's what you're asking. I'm asking though," she continued with a slight frown, "The new moon isn't for two more weeks, why are you here _now_?"

Harry blinked in confusion again, this time as he realized that his half-sister and adoptive mother was right. Their mother usually didn't stop by for a visit until it was new moon week, as that was normally when her duties waned and she had the time.

Hecate hesitated for a moment before sighing, slowly putting her teacup down on the arm of her chair (where it vanished) and folded her hands across her stomach as she watched them. "I'm sure you recall a few months ago when I was late to visit you," she began calmly, "And I told you there was something bad brewing in Britain's wizarding world?"

"Is it another Dark Lord?" Sarah said bluntly, the amusement clear in her voice, "The last one got defeated by an overprotective owl".

"He didn't count, not according to the _Daily Prophet_," Hecate corrected absently, "Remember?"

"What is it then?" Harry asked curiously, honestly a little surprised that he was being included in this 'grown-up conversation'.

"It's not a new Dark Lord, it's an old one," their mother answered unhappily. "Tom Riddle has managed to return to a mortal body".

Harry felt himself stiffening immediately, exchanging a nervous look with Sarah. He knew who Tom Riddle was, how couldn't he recognize his own half-brother after all? But that wasn't the problem, the problem was that now that Voldemort was back, the wizards would soon start up the search for the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry was more than happy where he was – thank you very much.

"You don't mean..."

"I'm afraid so Sweetheart," Hecate admitted, smiling sadly at him as she reached out to cup his jaw. "The stars are clear in their alignment; it's time for you to return to Britain and finish what you started. It's time for you to kill your brother, once and for all".

* * *

**MR. SPARKS**

* * *

_**Based off DZ2's wonderful **_**'Break the Rules' **_**challenge, this idea hit me hard and fast like a freight train and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. So I did.**_

_**I don't know if this is a preview I'll continue one day, but it's definitely one I think is interesting enough that it's highly likely I'll return to it and at least consider it. The idea for Sarah Sparks; the real psychic pretending to be a fake psychic pretending to be a real psychic comes from the amazing Kelley Armstrong who has the infamous TV medium 'Jamie Vega' who is a necromancer pretending to be a normal person pretending to be a medium.**_

_**Thanks for reading, but I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.**_

* * *

**MR. SPARKS**


	94. Psyche

**PSYCHE**

* * *

"Well. Ain't this a right ruckus".

Eyes slowly roaming the tightly-packed train station, Madam Amelia Bones; Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, let out a slow sigh and tapped her wand on the badge on her chest, holding it there for five long seconds before withdrawing it.

"Gentlemen, form a perimeter, I want a clear line of access from the train to both the King's Station entrance and the floo entrance," she ordered, already imagining the migraine she was sure to have by the end of today. "And someone find out what's going on here, I've never seen the Platform _this_ crowded before, not even during the War".

"It's Harry Potter, Ma'am," Derek Lang, one of Amelia's favourite Aurors explained in a quiet whisper. "Rita Skeeter wrote a story about how it was his first year at Hogwarts this September, everyone's shown up see the Boy-Who-Lived".

Amelia needed only a moment's pause before she was nodding in agreement, "That would do it, I'd say," she announced as the backup she'd summoned came pouring through the floo behind her. "Well, let's clear a path for Mister Potter, should he not already be on the train. Any of mine I find failing their job and asking Potter for his autograph themselves will find themselves shucking out the department's stables by hand for a month," she added bluntly.

"The DMLE has a stables?" someone murmured behind her.

"I'll build some just for you, Weatherby," Amelia snapped, "Now jump to it!"

As her Aurors spread out through the crowd like water, guiding everyone into certain areas without needing her there holding their hands, Amelia took a moment to feel relieved that she'd sent her niece Susan to her friend's that morning. Hopefully the Abbott family kept up with their usual habit of arriving a full hour early, or Susan and Hannah would never get on the train before it left.

Shaking it off and jumping into action herself, Amelia helped her Aurors as they created a very clear fork in the platform, giving space for the startled young witches and wizards coming through to reach the train without being trodden on. Watching as an older wizard broke free of the crowd to dive at a dark-haired boy coming through the enchanted barrier, Amelia flinched as a loud crack sent the man flying, a darkly-glaring Lady Longbottom stepping through the barrier as well stroking her wand evilly. As one of her Aurors leapt forward to stun and bind the aggressive wizard without needing her to give the order, Amelia hid her sigh of relief as Lady Longbottom just nodded at her in approval before continuing to lead her grandson towards the train with a dangerous look in her eyes.

That was one scary woman, one that Amelia was _not_ willing to get on the bad side of, Auror solidarity be damned.

"Uh… Madam Bones?"

Turning a narrow-eyed glare on the Auror who'd fallen out of formation, Amelia needed to do nothing more than raise an eyebrow and tighten her jaw before the young man started sweating nervously.

"My uh, my little brother's on the train," the Auror (Lucas Prince, she believed) stuttered out, "And I asked him to check to see if Potter was on board".

"Well?" Amelia pressed when Prince stopped talking and stared at her, "Get on with it!"

"He's not! He's not Sir, I mean Ma'am, Madam," Prince blurted, the fear clear in his eyes making Amelia feel both better about the situation and guilty for terrifying the poor boy. "John says he searched the entire train and Potter wasn't there, he even used '_Homenum Revlio_' and he didn't show up".

Pulling her pocket watch from the inside of her robes, Amelia glanced down at the time before snapping it shut, making the blonde Auror flinch. 'Tell your brother to keep up the search," she instructed as she slipped her grandfather's watch back into her robes, "I want him to check every ten minutes. As for us, we will hold position until 1130 hours in case Mister Potter is late, then we will assume he acquired other transport to Hogwarts and will withdraw".

"But what if he's not coming?" Prince questioned hesitantly.

"Then that is a matter for the Department of Magical Education to deal with, not the Auror force," Amelia dismissed bluntly. While she personally hoped that Potter attended Hogwarts, having been good friends with both James and Sirius before the former's death and the latter's betrayal, it was neither her choice nor her business where his guardians chose to send him. Then again, unlike some Amelia was not obsessed with the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, and she highly believed she'd be forced to respond to some crimes committed by those who believed that Harry Potter 'belonged' to Hogwarts.

Starting up a patrol to check over her Aurors as time ticked down, Amelia found herself beginning to doubt that Harry Potter would show up, watching the hands of her grandfather's pocket watch moving past 10:30, 10:45, and then finally 11:00 without even a glimpse of Potter's arrival. As the disappointed witches and wizards gathered on the Platform started to trickle away, unhappy murmurs echoing through the crowd, Amelia turned to face the train and caught the eye of Lucas Prince expectantly.

Nothing.

"Hold position until I give you leave to break it!" she snapped as she caught sight of one of her Aurors shifted uncertainly, "We will continue to guard this Platform until further notice!"

And that further notice came all too soon as she watched the time strike 11:30 without even a single black hair showing up. Silently offering up a plea that they were just overreacting and that Potter was already on the train happily making friends or was even already waiting for everyone else up at Hogwarts, Amelia Bones shook her head and tapped her throat with her wand, giving the simple order across the otherwise empty platform for her Aurors to stand down.

Little did she know how wrong she was.

* * *

"Madam Bones? You might want to come deal with this".

Sighing in relief as she looked up from her parchmentwork, Amelia set down her quill quickly and raised an eyebrow at her newest addition to her personal task force – 'Call me Nymphadora and I'll break you' Tonks – curiously.

"Rowle's getting mouthy with a Muggle-born again," Tonks explained bluntly, "And you know he won't listen to anyone but you".

Pushing herself out of her chair with a speed that betrayed her eagerness for anything that wasn't more reports, Amelia hurried around her desk and followed Tonks out of her office. "Give me the rundown," she ordered as they moved, the gathered Aurors looking relieved at the sight of her and quickly moving out of their way as they headed towards the interrogation rooms.

"We were following up reports of a potential 5-87 in Cardiff, Wales. Deputy Head Lang sent Rowle and myself out to deal with it, believing it to be a simple Muggle-baiting to help Rowle back on his feet after his suspension," Tonks responded immediately. "We managed to question the locals subtly and tracked the suspect to a Muggle apartment near Roald Dahl Plass".

"I'll take the full report later, skip ahead," Amelia interrupted quickly. While she appreciated Tonks' formal nature usually, going so far as beginning to subtly groom the potential-filled girl towards taking maybe even her job one day, this wasn't the time for a long drawn out report.

"I think it's a 7-69, Ma'am," Tonks simplified bluntly, "A Muggleborn that fell through the cracks. He's clearly magical and is clearly a _very_ powerful Legilmens, I didn't even feel him enter my mind before he started call me Nym – _that _– and he seemed honestly surprised when he realised we were wizards. I instructed Rowle to bring him in, thinking truth serum would either send him to Azkaban or to Hogwarts. During the arrest the suspect went peacefully until Rowle started making comments about the suspect's heritage, I have reason to believe the suspect then proceeded to read Rowle's mind and start using the information he found there to strike back. I ordered Prince and Prince to guard the suspect and keep an eye on Rowle while I came to get you the moment he started talking about 'Mudbloods needing to be wiped out', as per your orders".

"Good work," Amelia praised curtly, not needing to see the blush on the young woman's cheeks to know that a simple 'Good work' was ten times better than any promotion to her.

"And if I don't _know_ what happened?" an unfamiliar voice questioned smugly as Tonks pushed open the door.

Only needing a moment to take in everything that was happening in the interrogation room, Amelia cleared her throat loudly, watching as Aurors Lucas and John Prince tried to leap away from the suspect and stand at attention at the same time. (Those two were even more clumsy than Tonks pretended to be).

"Is there any reason for me to find one of my Aurors unconscious on the floor and another two physically abusing a suspect?" she growled out, watching as the two brothers paled and exchanged nervous glances. "I thought not, Auror Tonks, their wands and badges please".

Staring coldly as Tonks hurried to confiscate the newly suspended Auror's belongings, Amelia gave them a quick look that promised a lot of pain in their futures before ordering them into the interrogation room next door, Tonks leaving to escort them without a word.

"Is my Auror alright?" she asked slowly, staring down at the badges in her hands sadly. She had thought those two had potential, apparently not.

"He will be once he's had some sleep," a young voice responded, Amelia glancing over and almost double taking in shock. "And I'm not a 'kid'," the kid argued pre-emptively from where he was gracefully lounging in the chair like he wasn't bound to it against his will, "I'm sixteen".

Not reacting as another Auror came in to levitate Rowle's body out, refusing to make eye contact with either her or the smirking teenager, Amelia merely pulled out the chair opposite the boy and sat down calmly. Taking a slow breath as she made herself comfortable, honestly looking forward to interrogating a suspect again after all these years, she tightened her mental barriers and returned her attention to the boy opposite her, freezing seconds later as he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Harry Potter.

The boy sitting opposite her, with a nice dark shiner coming in on pale skin and an utterly chaotic twinkle in his eyes was Harry James Potter; the Boy-Who-Vanished. She could see how at first glance she wouldn't recognise him, short black hair and green eyes weren't that uncommon after all, but it wasn't until facing him head on that Amelia saw James' jaw and Lily's nose.

"You know my parents?"

Blinking in shock at Potter's question, Amelia narrowed her eyes suspiciously as a question flittered across her thoughts.

"If I tell you the truth will you tell me about my parents?" Potter asked bluntly, making her hesitate before nodding in confirmation seconds later. "You're right, I read your mind, I've been able to do it since I was a kid," he admitted openly, crossing his arms and making Amelia start as she realised that sometime during his sentence the ropes binding his arms to the arms of his chair had snapped. "Now it's your turn".

"I worked with your father here, as part of the DMLE," Amelia answered without thinking, her mind too busy processing what she'd just learned. "I knew your mother through him, it was a tragedy when they both died".

Happening almost too quickly for her to catch it, those emerald eyes were clouded with a grief that vanished almost instantly, telling her that Pot- Harry didn't know about his parent's deaths.

"What do you know about me?" Harry asked after he'd composed himself.

Shaking her head, Amelia smiled simply at Harry who merely shot her an unimpressed look in return. "It's my question now," she corrected, "Where were you? We waited for you at Platform Nine and Three Quarters but you never showed up, then the Minister of Magic called us in a panic because Dumbledore had confessed you'd vanished from your safe house".

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters?" Harry echoed, looking confused. "And 'safe house'? I ran away from the Dursleys' because I had a better life on the streets than I had living with them," he explained, crossing one leg over the other elegantly. "I never received whatever 'letter' the other two were thinking about either, I never had any mail addressed to me before I moved into my flat in Cardiff".

Thankfully Harry didn't seem to want to pressure her into answering his own question immediately, because he allowed Amelia to sit there staring at him thoughtfully, trying to work what she had just been told into what she knew herself. Having been the one who'd cuffed the Dursleys and dragged them to Erago – the wizarding prison for muggles and squibs that knew about magic – herself, she unfortunately knew that Harry's comment about being better off on the streets wasn't exaggerated. She also knew that Dumbledore had been stripped of all his titles bar his role as Headmaster because of his screw-up of placing the Boy-Who-Lived with abusive muggles. And she – and she also knew that Harry was hearing everything she was thinking right then and there if the look in his eyes was any indication.

"You caught me," Harry said with a shrug, "Most muggles don't give the thought of real psychics even the benefit of the doubt, they always try to explain my successes away as either pure luck or me cheating".

"Psychics? The mind arts are rare among wizards," Amelia admitted slowly, "But not unheard of".

She and Harry stared at each other curiously before both opening their mouths to speak at the same time. "You first," she offered, nodding her head towards Harry who smiled thankfully in response.

"What happens to me now?" he asked making her freeze as the answer flashed through her mind – and thus through Harry's – before she could stop it. "I don't think so," Harry denied with a frown, shaking his head at her stubbornly, "I'm not going to this 'Hogwarts' place, and you can't make me".

"Unfortunately the laws are clear," Amelia admitted unhappily, "Either you pass your N.E. or your memories are wiped, your magic bound and your life turned upside down".

"_Or_," Harry began petulantly, "I could just do this".

And with that, Harry James Potter, the boy who had just waltzed back into the magical world by sheer accident, vanished into thin air with nothing but a faint rumble and a shimmer.

* * *

**PSYCHE**

* * *

_**So this one is an answer to my own '**_**Psyche**_**' challenge – as implied by the name – that I thought it was about time that I wrote. I was in a good mood after finishing the 'Mr. Sparks' idea that I let my sleep-deprived imagination run wild, and this is the path that it decided to take for whatever reasons seemed logical to it.**_

_**Also, Madam Bones is a fun character to write, she's actually got a large part in my 'Ignition' story which wasn't actually planned.**_

* * *

**PSYCHE**


	95. Titan

**TITAN**

* * *

"_Don't you dare_," Lily Potter hissed coldly, slowly making her way to her feet as her eyes narrowed dangerously at the man sitting opposite her. "_Don't you fucking dare_".

"One minute, I'm facing down Lord Voldemort to protect my son, and then the next I'm waking up in St. Mungo's, being told I've spent the last eleven years in a _coma!_" she shouted angrily, not caring that the Aurors around the room had drawn their wands when she'd started speaking. "And then! When they _finally_ decided I was allowed to see my son, they dropped the news on me that they'd given him to my sister, and had let him be _abused_!" she roared, her magic beginning to manifest around her as her hair started moving as in a wild tornado.

"And not only _that_! But then they gave my son to _Albus fucking Dumbledore_, who sent him off to America, because as a squib he was _clearly_ a disgrace to my family! And what did you assholes do to my son?" she demanded furiously, the breeze having turned to a nearly blinding storm as her fiery hair whipped around her head like a hurricane.

"_YOU LOST HIM!"_

Barely pausing to even take a breath, Lily was moving forward to lean across the Director's' desk, her blazing eyes promising pain to the man cowering in front of her. "I haven't spent the past _five years_ searching for my son, only for your incompetence to set me back to square one," she snarled out, refusing to drop eye contact with the man before her. "You _will_ find my son," she demanded, either unaware or uncaring of the chaos her magic was causing around the room, "Or I'll spent the rest of my life tearing your world down around you," Lily threatened calmly.

Still staring down the Director, Lily didn't even twitch as the man's shaking hands snatched up the telephone on the corner of his desk. Pressing a series of buttons without looking away from Lily, the Director pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

"It's me," he blurted the moment the other end of the line answered him, "I want Harry Potter in my office immediately. I know what he is, I need him here _now._ I know what I said, but now I'm saying to get him here now. I don't care how long it takes, find him, and bring him here. ASAP. Good".

Hanging up, the Director shot Lily a nervous smile as he mopped at the sweat on his brow. "A- your son will be here within 24 hours. I assure you".

Her hair suddenly falling limp and bleeding back into its original red, Lily Potter smiled tightly at the man, turning and stalking across the room as she tapped into her current adrenaline fuelled state to wandlessly conjure an armchair in the corner of her room. Silently sinking down into it, Lily ignored the horrified stares from around the room as she calmly brushed her hair from her face and made eye contact with the Director once more.

"I can hardly wait".

* * *

**TITAN**

* * *

"Harry, wake up! _Harry_!"

Grumbling wordlessly as the voice whispering in his ear and the hand shaking at his shoulder dragged him cruelly from the warm realms of sleep; Harry tried to pull his blankets up over his head in an effort to remove the annoyance from his bed.

"Harry, please! Wake up!"

Finally cracking open his eyes to scowl at the intruder, Harry felt his annoyance flee as a dopey grin crossed his face. "Hey babe," he slurred out slowly, ruining the moment by yawning seconds later.

"Harry, you need to get up right now, it's important," Kitty 'Shadowcat' Pryde; Mutant, X-Man and more importantly Harry's girlfriend exclaimed quietly, looking over her shoulder nervously.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Harry said gently, struggling to push himself up to press a kiss to Kitty's cheek before collapsing back down onto the bed. "You need to leave," he added with a serious yawn, "Your Dad promised to neuter me if he caught us together at night".

"There are people downstairs".

Grunting in agreement, Harry reached out to grab his girlfriend around the waist, lifting her up and rolling over to deposit her on the bed beside him, leaving her within perfect reach of his arms to pull her in to cuddle. He'd deal with Kitty's father in the morning, for now they could just sleep together, and because Harry's plans of dealing with Mr. Pryde revolved around him using his powers then he hardly had reason to fear the admittedly scary man.

And then just like that Harry's eyes were snapping open to meet Kitty's dark brown eyes, her words finally penetrating the sleepy haze in his mind.

"Your parents?" he whispered as he automatically started kicking off the blankets.

"They're still in their room," Kitty admitted fearfully, "Asleep".

Scrambling to climb off the bed in the quest bedroom Mr. and Mrs. Pryde had let him use during the Winter Break, Harry snatched up the jeans he'd left on the floor and started pulling them on. "Get them out of here," he instructed, "Phase through the walls and get them out, don't un-phase for a second and don't use the hallways or staircase".

"I'm not leaving you alone," Kitty argued, reminding him sharply that they weren't in the Danger Room doing a training exercise right then and there, and thus she didn't need to follow his orders. "They have guns, they're _soldiers_, Harry".

"They're soldiers, and I'm invincible," Harry countered quickly, forgoing a shirt as he hurried around the bed to take his girlfriend into his arms. "Get your parents out," he repeated, cupping Kitty's jaw gently and tilting her head back so they could look into each other's eyes. "Get them safe, then call the School using that number I know Mrs. Summers gave you".

"But-"

"Then, and _only_ then, can you come back for me," Harry allowed, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his girlfriend out of this even if he tried. His powers were useless against someone who could walk right through him, after all. "Do you understand?"

Kitty looked like she was going to argue for a moment, staring up at him with wide emotion-filled eyes before sighing and nodding. "Stay safe," she whispered leaning up to kiss his lips gently.

"Anything for you," he whispered back, watching as she unhappily pulled herself out of his arms and turned to run straight at the wall, vanishing through it as Harry reached for the power constantly thrumming through his body and pulling it to the surface. "Let's get this show on the road," he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders as he padded over to the door and listened carefully at it, cracking it open and slipping out into the hallway.

Stealth wasn't his most natural of skills, unlike his girlfriend, but Harry could still be sneaky when he needed to be. And as he reached the balcony and peered down into the living room, he knew he _definitely_ needed to be sneaky if he wanted to get the upper hand on the soldiers downstairs. He didn't want them to open fire and potentially hurt Kitty or her family, while trying to take him down, so he'd just need to wait long enough for Kitty to have gotten them out of the house before he went all Titan on their asses.

Backing up into the shadows of the landing as two soldiers started up the stairs, Harry felt any option he had of stealth fading away quickly as he caught snippets of the orders being delivered downstairs.

Oh _hell_ no. Harry was not letting his girlfriend get hurt because some military jarheads were after him. That's it, the gloves were coming off, and so were the training wheels. He was going to put these men down like the animals they were, and he was going to be _pleased_ about it when he was done.

"Hi," he greeted as the first soldier rounded the corner, "Looking for someone?"

Lashing out before the man could turn his gun on him, Harry was slashing his hand in the soldier's direction, launching him through the railing and _into_ the second-floor wall of the living room. Stepping around the corner and thrusting his palm towards the second soldier, he sent that man flying before he could recover from the sight of his friend being lodged in a wall. Latching onto the power currently surrounding his body like a second skin, Harry vaulted over the balcony and floated down to the middle of the living room.

"Before we get started," Harry began as he landed, all the guns in the room snapping around to aim at him. "Nobody here gets squeamish around blood, do they?"

* * *

"So. Do you two often do things like this?"

Hesitating and exchanging a quick look with Kitty, Harry just nodded in her direction before returning his attention to the road, leaving the _talk_ up to her. (Her parents, her responsibility).

"We're only in training, Dad," Kitty explained nervously, "Professor Xavier will only let us become X-Men when we're eighteen".

"So you _don't_ do this often then?" Mr. Pryde pressed, "Why did you shrug? Kitty! Why did your boyfriend just shrug at me?"

"I've had to do this a couple of times," Harry defended quickly when Kitty shot him a glare, looking in the rear-view mirror to meet Mr. Pryde's eyes. "The school is safe, but the outside world isn't always. I mean yeah the school got attacked that one time, but it was empty so that doesn't count. Kitty's never been in any danger".

Well, Kitty had never been in any danger if he didn't count the five times in the past three years the Brotherhood of Mutants made random recruiting raids on the mansion. Or those times the Purifiers tried their hand at drunken raids. Or that one time when he accidentally shattered the front wall of the mansion's entrance hall because John had spiked the punch without warning anybody.

"Somehow I don't believe you," Mr. Pryde murmured unhappily.

"Harry's telling the truth, the mansion really _is_ safe," Kitty argued, ten times a better liar than Harry was.

Jumping as something wet touched his shoulder, Harry almost drove the car off the road as he flinched, twisting about to see Mrs. Pryde sitting there frozen as she held out a damp handkerchief. "You have blood… on your shoulder," she mumbled weakly, eyes flicking to Kitty hopefully.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Harry apologized gently, "I'm just a little jumpy from earlier".

"What _was_ earlier?" Mr. Pryde demanded, "All Kitty said was that we were under attack as she dragged us into the car, then we hear gunfire and _you_ show up with blood all over you and start driving off like a madman"

Exchanging another look with Kitty, Harry sighed slowly and thought about how he could explain it all.

"Did… did Kitty tell you what my mutation is?" he asked, making both adults shake their heads simultaneously. "I have a very unusual type of telekinesis," Harry began, "Instead of moving things with my mind, I surround my body in like a force field of telekinetic energy".

"Which is why Kitty said you were invincible," Mr. Pryde realized.

"Exactly. Not only that but I can release blasts of telekinetic power… like how the Jedi can use the Force in Star Wars," Harry continued. "So while they were all shooting at me, I was throwing them around your living room – sorry about that vase by the way, Mrs. Pryde. I think I broke a couple of bones too, and I know I cracked someone's skull, which is why I'm covered in blood, I had to try staunch the bleeding before I left".

Glancing over as his girlfriend's phone rang, Harry took a moment to peek at his potential in-laws in the rearview mirror. Thankfully they didn't look _too_ shell-shocked, meaning there was a chance they weren't going to forbid the two of them from being together, Harry didn't have the patience to last very long if they had to sneak around all the time.

"Do you love our daughter?"

"With everything I have," Harry answered honestly.

"And would you protect her?"

"With all the life in my body".

"Would you two give it a break?" Kitty demanded, shoving the phone at Harry, "The Professor wants to talk to you".

Taking the phone and listening carefully as the Professor rattled off a set of instructions, Harry mumbled out a confirmation and grimaced as the line went dead.

"Is there a map in the glovebox? We need to get to the nearest airport," Harry announced, handing the phone back to his girlfriend. "The blackbird will be there to take us to Washington D.C. The Professor will be paying for any damages done to your house too, Mr. Pryde," he added.

"What's in D.C? And why are you taking my daughter towards it?" the man asked suspiciously.

"The person who ordered the hit on me," Harry confessed hesitantly, "My mother".

* * *

**TITAN**

* * *

**Based off my own 'Homo Superior' challenge, this idea is really a hybrid of an earlier idea I had for the 'Abandoned Harry' challenge (the beginning) and the mutant side of things (the rest of it).**


	96. Touch

Across the camp-site, Harry Potter could hear off-key singing, and the occasional bang or crack of fireworks as the Irish celebrated their win.

It was, rather surprisingly in fact, rather calming to the young raven-haired wizard, who found himself drifting between waking and sleep in a gentle doze. Partly aware of the noise of the also celebrating Weasleys, the other half of Harry's mind was filled with fantasies – of him soaring into the quidditch stadium in Gryffindor Red robes astride his Firebolt as everyone screamed his name.

"Oh… I'm _so_ glad I'm not on duty," Mr Weasley's voice murmured quietly, Harry missing out the rest of what the man was going to say as he fell back into sleep. When he came back to himself, it was to the red-haired man shouting, "GET UP! GET UP! RON! HARRY! HURRY UP – BOTH OF YOU!"

Half falling off the top bunk, Harry blinked up at the panicked looking man in confusion, as he watched the Weasley Patriarch staggering around the tent - grabbing his children and shoving them towards the door. Grabbing Harry's jacket from the floor and shoving into his arms as Mr Weasley pushed him towards Hermione and guided the two of them towards the tent door as well, slipping something small into Harry's hand and curling his fingers around it.

As he finally woke up completely, Harry felt shivers running down his spine as he realised what was wrong – the happy singing had transformed into terrified screaming, and the cracking of fireworks had turned into loud explosions of spell-fire.

"GET INTO THE WOODS!" Mr Weasley ordered as he dragged them all outside, tapping Bill, Charlie, and Percy on the shoulder and gesturing towards the direction of the screaming and the fires burning in the night. "Get into the woods you lot! Stay safe, stay away from everyone else! You two," he added pointing at Fred and George, "Look after your sister, and – and just stay safe, all of you".

As Mr Weasley turned and sprinted off after his elder sons, Harry watched as Fred quickly lifted Ginny off the ground and threw her over his shoulder, George doing the same with Ron. "Run you two!" the twins shouted simultaneously as they shoved Harry and Hermione towards the forest, ignoring Ron's indignant squawks as they started running.

Feeling a flicker of amusement as he watched Ron bouncing on his brother's shoulders, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started running after them, fighting the part of him that wanted to look over his shoulder as he instead focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Catching Ron's wand as the red-head tried to draw it mid-bounce, Harry unashamedly threw a curse at someone who stumbled into their way, his stinging hex knocking the man to the side with a yelp as he cringed at the feeling of using someone else's wand.

Ignoring Hermione's wordless cry of disapproval, Harry kept dragging her along, not willing to lose one of his best friends to the chaos raging around them. He had a hard enough time _sleeping_ in the same room with the other Gryffindors of their year, he didn't want to think about what would happen to him if he lost either of his best friends – an image of old Mrs Figg from Privet Drive flashed through his mind, the woman all alone with only a horde of cats for company. That image was one too real for Harry to want to think about so instead he kept pushing forward, both he and Hermione using their wands to clear their path of any obstacles or burning debris.

Almost tripping over a small rabbit-hole in the ground, Harry managed to right himself in time to see a tornado of black smoke touching down in front of them, a man dressed in black robes with a bone-white mask stepping from it as he sent a stream of black fire towards a tent bearing a grinning leprechaun's face. As the tent went up in flames, Harry followed Hermione as she started to tug him away from the robed man and after the twins, keeping his wand locked on the man in case he turned and saw them.

"Death Eaters," Hermione hissed as they ducked behind a tent, the two of them crouching there paralysed as they looked at the wide open space between them and the Weasleys. "You-Know-Who's servants," she explained as Harry's mind raced.

Instead of responding, Harry waved his arms to catch the twins' attention, trying to convey through gestures that he and Hermione would catch up and that they should run. "When I say," he whispered, trying to peer around the tent at the 'Death Eater' hurling destructive spells around, "Run".

"But Harry!" Hermione began.

"Run," he interrupted, not wanting to sit there and argue as he grabbed her hand again, keeping the tent between them and the Death Eater as they ran away from the dark wizard. "We'll circle, meet up with the Weasleys in the forest," he explained as they dove behind another tent, "It'll be simple, like wizard's chess".

"This _isn't_ chess," Hermione countered.

"I hope not," Harry confessed bluntly, "I'm crap at chess". Almost leaving it there, Harry glanced over at Hermione, freezing as he saw the tears forming in her eyes, "Hey, hey. We'll be fine," he promised, trying to simultaneously assure Hermione and watch over her shoulder for the Death Eater. "We'll get out this. If we can take on Voldemort, his basilisk and an army of dementors, then I think we can get out of this safely yeah?"

As Hermione blinked away her tears, leaving her beautiful brown eyes locked onto his, Harry found himself leaning forward before he could help himself, pressing his lips against hers awkwardly. "We'll get out of this," he repeated as he pulled away from the shocked girl, "I won't let _anyone_ hurt you".

What Hermione was about to say went in one ear and out the other, as his eyes flicked past her to the Death Eater standing there, watching in growing horror as the man turned to face them. Freezing, the two of them staring each other for a second or two, Harry reacted the only way he could – as a cry of _"AVADA KEDAVRA!_" filled the air, he reached out and shoved Hermione away, hands rising uselessly to shield against the Killing Curse.

"_HARRY! HARRY NO!_

"_Step aside, you silly girl!"_

"_No! Not Harry! PLEASE NOT MY HARRY!"_

"_Oh Harry… not like this…"_

_A red-haired woman flashed through his mind, smile sad as emerald green eyes teared up._

"_Mum?"_

"_Yes baby, it's me," his mother's voice responded softly, sounding like it was coming through a thick wall. "It is not your time yet, wake up"._

"_I want to stay with you"._

_Lily Potter shook her head. Body fading in and out of view as Harry stretched out his arm to her._

"_I'm so proud of you sweetheart," Lily denied, refusing to reach back out for Harry. "I've watched you, through my love – through my protection. But now it's time for me to join your father, and it's time for you to wake up"._

"_No… Mum"._

"_Harry, it's time, if you love me let me go"._

_For an instant Lily's form turned solid, tears dripping down her face as she mouthed 'I love you' at him before vanishing back into the white light shining from behind her that died off almost instantly._

"_Not my son!"._

"_So be it"._

"_HARRY!"_

Eyes snapping open, Harry stared up into the night sky for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on and where he was. Flinching as an explosion tore through the air nearby – leaving his ears ringing – he scrambled to his feet and looked around at what appeared to be a burning campsite.

Oh…

_Oh_.

Beginning to panic as the memories came flooding back, Harry began to search around desperately for Hermione, a scream sounding right on schedule that had him darting forward on instinct, every muscle in his body leaping into action like it was some kind of innate reaction to him.

Sprinting around the corner to find Hermione fighting with the Death Eater that had killed him, her wand missing as she clawed and kicked and sobbed, Harry took only a moment to think about a plan before he was charging the Death Eater and tackling it away from his best friend. That was step one complete; get Hermione away from the bad guy. Step two became apparent as he shifted so he landed straddling the Death Eater, pulling his fist back to punch him in the face as hard as he could, knocking the dark wizard's mask straight off.

"Hey Mr Malfoy".

As the platinum blonde wizard blinked up at him in dazed shocked, Harry pulled his fist back again and brought it down on the man's face. A cut-off scream exploded from the man's lips as their skin touched and something sparked in Harry's chest, sheer _power_ beginning to flow into his body from Malfoy's, the light shining beneath their skin moving from Malfoy's face and into his hand, then up his arm to his own chest. Shifting his grip so he was holding the man's face instead of just punching it, Harry gasped as more and more magic flooded his body, the thing in his chest pulling it all in greedily.

And just as quickly as it started it stopped, leaving Harry straddling a barely twitching body. Feeling himself coming down from the high of whatever had just happened was, he closed his eyes and basked in the power he could feel in his chest, the other man's magic stored there just waiting for him to tap into it.

"Ha- Harry?"

Moving instantly as Hermione's voice brought him back down to earth, Harry clambered off of Malfoy's body and stumbled towards the shell-shocked girl, reaching out hesitantly to grasp her elbow and pull her into a hug. He could have lost her again. If he hadn't gotten there in time then Malfoy could have done _anything_ he wanted to her and he would have gotten away with it, and Harry didn't think he could lose his best friend again, her being paralyzed in second year had been torture enough for him.

"Harry?" Hermione asked weakly.

"I'm here, Hermione, I'm here," Harry promised faintly, feeling her tightening her grip on his waist immediately. "I don't know how," he continued pre-emptively, "But I'm here".

"What… what did you do to him?" Hermione questioned as she pulled herself away from him, only the way her fingers remained curled in his shirt keeping him from flinching. "He's not moving".

"He'll be fine," Harry dismissed, just _knowing_ that to be true. "I didn't kill him".

"But what did you _do_?" Hermione pressed, looking both fearful, curious, and just plain relieved that he was still alive.

"I…" looking down at his hand, Harry turned it upside down so he could see his palm. "I don't know".

Frowning, Hermione reached up to take his hand. The moment their skin touched he could feel the thing in his chest lashing out again, reaching into Hermione to latch onto her magic and start pulling even as she tried to say "It's okay, Harry".

Tearing his hand away from Hermione's as she choked on her breath, Harry backed away and shoved his hands into his jacket in fear, not wanting to accidentally brush up against his friend and kill her. "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay!" Hermione interrupted, rubbing her chest breathlessly as she tried to send Harry her strongest most confident smile yet. "It wasn't your fault; I know you would never do anything to hurt me on purpose".

Stepping back as Hermione moved forward, he stood there stiffly as she murmured reassurances, feeling like a spooked horse as the bushy-haired girl cautiously reached out to place her hand on Harry's covered shoulder. "See?" she laughed out nervously, "You're not hurting me, it… it must just be your skin or something. It's okay, Harry, we'll… we'll get this fixed".

"Together?" was all Harry could ask in response, staring down at where his hands were cautiously. He didn't think he could get through whatever this was without Hermione on his side. Merlin, he didn't think he could survive without the promise of more Hermione-hugs in his future, they were all too easy to get addicted to when you were a touch-starved orphan.

"Together".

* * *

**TOUCH**

* * *

**Based off DZ2's '**_**I will not die**_**' challenge, this wasn't the first idea I had in mind but it happened and so I'm going with it. (And the reason behind the four updates in the past two days is that I've finished the ninth chapter of Ignition ahead of schedule and wanted to spend my assigned writing time doing something "useful").**


	97. The Hunt

**The Hunt – **Harry Potter.

* * *

"Harry Potter? Stay behind please".

Cringing already, Harry ignored the sniggers and smirks of his fellow classmates – led by Dudley, of course – as he finished shoving his school book into his ratty worn backpack.

This was it, wasn't it?

Mr Smith was the only teacher at Little Whinging Primary School that didn't hate him, he was the only one who could see through the lies of Dudley and the Dursleys. And while he'd just started to open the rest of the teacher's eyes to Dudley's misbehaviour and Harry's own innocence, it didn't matter because just like everyone else who claimed to care about him he was leaving.

They always left.

Twitching as footsteps moved to stand in front of his desk, Harry kept his eyes locked firmly on the wood of the desk, letting them roam over the defaced (By Dudley, naturally) _'Harry Potter'_ sign each desk in the room had.

"Look at me, Harry".

Shifting nervously, the young black-haired boy peered up at the teacher through his fringe, avoiding the man's eyes and instead focusing on his well-combed brown hair so he could pretend he was obeying.

"My eyes, Harry".

Tensing up as Harry finally moved his green eyes to Mr Smith's brown ones, he flinched again at the look in them.

"You _do_ understand why I'm leaving, don't you?" Mr Smith asked as he pulled a chair over and sat in it, looking funny with his knees up high. "You _do_ know it's not because of you, right? I have to finish my degree before I can come back, then I'll be your teacher full time".

Nodding weakly, because he believed Mr Smith but at the same time didn't, Harry flinched again as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Harry. Look at me," Mr Smith instructed, making Harry lift his head up again from where it'd dropped. "Remember what we've talked about, okay? Promise me that you'll never let the Dursleys break you, you're worth so much more than them, and I mean it. You have a light inside of you, something so bright it's blinding, and you have to hold onto that alright? You can't let them snuff it out".

"I… I don't understand," Harry mumbled softly, hunching in on himself even as he obediently kept his eyes on Mr Smith's.

"One day you will," Mr Smith promised simply, "You'll change this world, Harry Potter, I can tell".

Harry didn't believe the teacher; he _couldn't_ believe him. Countless other people had promised to do what they could to help Harry, whether it was to protect him from Dudley's abuse at school or from the Dursley's abuse at home. Never before had any of them came through, most of them just got fired or mysteriously came into money, and the ones that made a big enough ruckus just tended to... forget... about him overnight.

So while Harry wanted to believe Mr Smith, he couldn't. Not that he could tell the man that, that'd leave too many questions.

"Yes sir".

* * *

**THE HUNT**

* * *

Eyes snapping open as his cupboard's lock slid open, Harry pushed it open and clambered out to follow his Aunt Petunia into the kitchen.

"Keep it down," his Aunt hissed at him like always, pulling a plate with two sandwich on it from the fridge and shoving it at him. "And hurry up".

Obediently sitting at the table and rushing to eat the dinner he'd missed out on for 'being so bad at school he had been held back after class', Harry silently watched as Aunt Petunia flittered around the kitchen and gave it a quick wipe down. Smiling faintly as an apple and a glass of milk was set down before him, Aunt Petunia not giving him a second glance as she searched through the fridge and pantry, Harry hurried to finish his dinner before Uncle Vernon or Dudley came down for one of their expected midnight snacks.

"What happened today, in school?" Aunt Petunia asked suddenly, making him almost drop his milk in shock.

"It was Mr Smith's last day," Harry admitted quietly, his voice just above a whisper that his Aunt heard anyway. "He wanted to say goodbye". As his Aunt turned to shoot him a startled look, Harry hurried to explain "He's been letting me stay in his classroom during lunch to get away from Dud- er, some bullies".

His Aunt relaxing immediately, taking his dishes to the sink and quickly watching them, Harry looked around slowly. They'd been following this pattern for years, on days he was punished he could _always_ count on Aunt Petunia to sneak him out of his cupboard for a bathroom break and to feed him the dinner he had been denied that night. If Harry was to be honest, the reason he hadn't broken like Mr Smith had mentioned was his Aunt, if she had been just as cruel as Uncle Vernon and Dudley were then perhaps he may have let them 'snuff out his light'.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"No thank you," Harry mumbled as he watched his Aunt drying her hands, leaving him to slide off his chair silently and pad after her into the hallway. "Thank you, for the apple," he added honestly, fingers tightening around it slightly as she glanced down at it absently.

"What apple?" Aunt Petunia answered innocently, raising her eyebrow at him as a faint smile graced her lips. "Come on, Harry, in".

Nodding sadly as his Aunt opened his cupboard again, Harry made to climb in only for a loud _click_ to echo through the house. Squeaking as Aunt Petunia grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back, Harry watched a shape moving through the glass of the front door as he was dragged into the kitchen and pulled around the corner by his wide-eyed Aunt.

Feeling his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a pale Aunt Petunia stifled a gasp and looked between the archway to the hallway and the phone hanging on the wall on the other side of it. Harry judged the distance and tried to creep closer to the corner to peer around, wondering if he could make a run for it and help his Aunt.

"Harry?"

Blinking in shock as a more than familiar voice whispered from the hallway, he moved faster than Aunt Petunia could and leapt forward, plastering himself to the wall and peering around the corner with one eye to see the speaker.

"Harry? Come on kid," Mr Smith said softly as Harry watched the crouching man place his hand against the cupboard door that opened with another loud _click_ like Harry had heard from the front door. "It's time to g- Harry?"

"Mr Smith?"

His teacher's head snapping around as Aunt Petunia gasped, Harry slowly stepped out into the light of the wall-mounted lamp, frowning at his teacher at his Aunt stepped half in front of him.

"Your kind are not welcome here," Aunt Petunia hissed darkly, making Harry frown up at her as his fingers twitched to latch onto the back of her skirt nervously. "I swore when I took him in that I would protect him from monsters like you".

Mr Smith's lips twisted into a smirk that Harry could only describe as dark, "If I'm a monster, then I shudder to think of what else exists in the world," he drawled mockingly. "There are things a _lot_ worse than me out there".

"And now there's one of them in here too," Aunt Petunia snapped, "Now leave, before I call for help".

"Then what?" Mr Smith demanded, straightening up into his usual tall figure, the light from the lamp casting eerie shadows on his face. "What you will you do when you precious 'blood wards' fail you? They will not protect against one like me".

"What are you?"

Flinching as Aunt Petunia stiffened and Mr Smith's eyes darted down to meet his, Harry swallowed uncomfortably at the way the man's face softened at the sight of him. He wasn't so sure if he liked this new Mr Smith, the old one was always nice to him, but this one was being mean to Aunt Petunia and was scaring him with the almost sub-vocal growl accompanying his voice.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Mr Smith explained gently, "_Ever_. I'm here to take you away, somewhere safe".

"He's not going anywhere," Aunt Petunia argued immediately.

"Oh? And who is going to stop me, mortal? _You_?" Mr Smith shot back, his dark smirk coming back as he sneered down at Harry's Aunt.

"Mortal?" Harry blurted, cautiously stepping around his Aunt to stand at her side. "But everyone's mortal, aren't they?"

"Not quite, Harry," Mr Smith denied slowly, face softening again as he smiled down at him in the same way he always did when Harry asked questions in class. "While there is no such thing as a 'true' Immortal, we're as close as it gets".

"We?"

"Him?"

Mr Smith's eyebrows shot up as Harry and Aunt Petunia exchanged a confused look at each other's outbursts. "You did… you did not know," the man said finally, eyes leaving Harry's face to stare at Aunt Petunia who shook her head in response.

"I thought you… you _wizards_ were mortal. My sister and her husband still died, after all," Aunt Petunia admitted unhappily.

"That's your mistake," Mr Smith confessed, the look on his face the one Aunt Petunia got every time she had to stop and think about the answer to one of her crossword puzzles. "You are labouring under the delusion that I am a mere wizard, understandable," he added as he shot the open cupboard door a pointed look. "Listen carefully, for I can say this only once," Mr Smith declared quietly as he stepped forward to lower his voice even further. "Me and my… my people… we have been waiting for Harry for a _long_ time. It took us years to realise that He had even been born, and even longer to track him here. Now I'm here to take him home".

"Why?" Harry asked, making both of the adult's eyes swivel around to stare at him. "Why me?"

"The Fates chose you, Harry, not us," Mr Smith assured him.

"The 'fates' aren't real, and neither is magic," Harry argued stubbornly, something flashing through Mr Smith's eyes at his words.

"It was Vernon's decision," Aunt Petunia defended as Mr Smith turned those dark eyes on her, "I had no choice in the matter, I do what I can for him but that is all. I dare not risk do more".

"Magic isn't real, is it?" Mr Smith asked, turning back to Harry and crouching down again with a smile, "Then explain this".

And with that the wall-lamp started flickering, Mr Smith's eyes started glowing as if someone had lit a fire behind them, his irises changing from their normal brown to a fiery red-orange colour. But it was what happened next that convinced Harry of the truth, the smell of sulphur filled his nose as Mr Smith's lips curled to reveal sharpened canines and he tilted his head back, taking a deep breath before exhaling sharply and breathing out a small stream of fire.

"Do you still think that magic doesn't exist?" Mr Smith questioned slowly as he grinned smugly, all sharp fangs, as smoke curled from the corner of his mouth.

"What… what _are_ you?" Aunt Petunia gasped, pulling Harry away from his old teacher as the man shrugged and everything returned to normal in an instant.

"Dragon," Harry blurted, unable to keep the 'duh' from his voice as he stared at Mr Smith in awe.

"Not quite," the man corrected slowly, "We're not dragons, nor are we even related to them. But there are many names for us, and just as many 'breeds'.

"I said, _what are you_?" Aunt Petunia demanded, pushing Harry behind her as she raised her chin to bravely stare down the taller man.

In response the man's eyes lit up again, the fiery colour almost captivating to Harry as Mr Smith and Aunt Petunia stared at each other. "You don't need to know," the man dismissed slowly, "In fact, it's better that you don't. They can't shatter your mind looking for information you don't know, after all".

"I'm not letting you just _take_ him!" Aunt Petunia argued.

"He's one of us," Mr Smith snapped darkly, the air around him seemingly darkening. "The wizards would execute him just for being beyond their control, but we would train him, teach him how to control his… gifts… and show him when and how to use them. Only with us will he achieve not only his destiny to lead the Hunt, but true happiness".

"You'll protect him?" Aunt Petunia asked, making Harry's head snap around to stare at her in shock and a little bit of betrayal. "You'll keep him safe, and happy?"

Mr Smith just blinked at her in confusion, "He's one of us," he repeated slowly as if that answered all her questions. "We're social creatures, Mrs Dursley, he needs to be among others of his kind or he'll never make true friends".

As Aunt Petunia continued shooting questions at Mr Smith, Harry found his mind wandering. Magic was real, that much was obvious even to him, there was no way for Mr Smith to have faked what he had done especially when Aunt Petunia had used the word 'wizard'. And not only that but Mr Smith wanted to take him away to somewhere there were other magic-people, did… did that mean that _Harry_ was a magic-person as well?

"Take him".

Wait what.

"You have my word he'll be protected," Mr Smith promised, placing his hand over his heart as his eyes lit up again. "I swear it on my soul".

"Harry, you need to go with him," Aunt Petunia declared immediately, turning and crouching down to Harry's level as she turned him to face her. "He'll look after you; you'll have other people like you around. And you'll be far, far away from Vernon and Dudley. I couldn't protect you here, but I _can_ send you somewhere you'll be happy".

"But-"

"No… no buts," Aunt Petunia interrupted, pushing him lightly towards Mr Smith. "Just go".

* * *

**THE HUNT**

* * *

"Gee Potter, got ants in your pants or something?

"Give him a break, mate, he's got his letter coming any minute now".

Ignoring the voices talking behind him, Harry just exchanged an anxious grin with the boy sitting opposite him, both of them too nervous to eat the breakfast piled high on their plates.

He'd been waiting for this day this Mr 'Call me Logan' Smith had taken him away from the Dursleys and told him about the magical world and what lay in its shadow. He loved his new – his true – family more than anything, they were everything he'd wished the Dursleys could have been, but more than three quarters of his 'kind' who lived in England were what they called 'mundane' and thus were incapable of using magic or teaching him about it.

And sure, Harry was a little depressed over the fact that he was going to Hogwarts alone, none of the other magical children going to the castle over a smaller closer school. But his friends were all proud of him for having his name down since birth, and Seamus and Connor had already coerced a promise from him to buy an owl and send them weekly letters. Or course, first Harry had to find an owl that didn't automatically hate him for his non-human side, but Mr Smith said that because he was still young it'd be easy to find an owl and then 'ween' it towards his aura as he grew older and it grew stronger.

It had taken Harry a moment to get used to the idea that he wasn't entirely human, nor entirely wizard. But when he had, he'd taken to it with what his teachers called a 'natural talent', something that had made Mr Smith beam at him with pride. Of course, because of his age he wouldn't be able to join the rest of them until he was a little older, but as far as Harry was concerned thirteen was that far of a step away from eleven so he could wait.

His head snapping around as the doors to the dining hall swung open, Harry felt himself perking up hopefully as Mr Smith stepped into the room and looked around, obviously searching for Harry if the way he started at the children's table.

"Harry!" Seamus hissed quietly, "You're trembling".

"Bite me," Harry whispered back as the Irish boy sniggered, baring his slightly sharpened teeth at his friend who only sniggered louder.

"Now, now, Harry. Manners," Mr Smith's voice called, Harry grimacing as he remembered the enhanced hearing the adults all boasted. "Unless you just want me to hold onto your letter until you've apologised?"

Harry just glared at the man who grinned unashamedly, purposely taking his time in walking casually over to where Harry was sitting.

"Ah, Mr Finnigan, I shouldn't be surprised to find you hanging onto Harry's tail, but somehow I am," Mr Smith added as he reached the two of them and noticed Seamus.

"It starts deeper in your throat, Harry," the man corrected as a growl rumbled up from Harry's chest before he could stop it. "Oh _alright_. I am sorry Mr Finnigan, that was rude of me," Mr Smith apologised properly when Harry just kept growling. "You know little Lord, once you're old enough to take your throne, you'll find that growling at people doesn't tend to work so well," he muttered under his breath, pulling out the chair beside Harry. "Besides, I didn't mean that in an offensive way, I mean it like this".

Blinking in shock as Mr Smith threw not one, but _two_ letters onto the table, Harry exchanged a look with Seamus before making a grab for the one with his name on it, grinning at his best friend as the boy turned his own around to show his name on the front.

"I'm going to Hogwarts," Seamus blurted.

"_We're_ going to Hogwarts," Harry corrected, his grin just as wide and sharp-toothed as Seamus'.

Unable to help himself, Harry threw his head back and howled into the air, Seamus following suit seconds later, their howls piercing the quiet dim of the dining hall. Moments later Harry could hear an almost rippling wave of howls circling out from around the two of them, everyone else in the room joining in on the joy of their future Alpha and his Beta.

The Hunt was soon to begin.

* * *

**THE HUNT**

* * *

**Based off DZ2's **_**"The Lost Heir"**_** challenge, this idea came about from a fragment of a thought that came out of nowhere and vanished back into the void just as quickly. Just a moment was enough though, and this idea was born from it. I'm not going to tell you what Harry's species is, but you're all welcome to guess.**


	98. Masons

**Masons – **Harry Potter/X-Men

* * *

"You've just ruined the punch-line of my Japanese-golfer joke... one more noise out of you, and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!"

Trying hard to hide the tremors shaking his body, Harry slowly let Dobby out of the wardrobe he'd locked the elf in, jabbing a finger towards the door accusingly. "See what it's like here?" he hissed out angrily, "See why I've _got_ to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got – well, I _think_ I've got friends".

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked, trying and failing miserably to act sly and sneaky.

"Well," Harry began suspiciously, "I expect they've just been – hang on," he said with a frown as he latched onto what was wrong with the house elf's behaviour. "How do _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me".

The house elf swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing as comically large eyes flickered this way and that nervously. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby – Dobby did it for Harry Potter's own good, even if he had to slam his head in the oven door afterwards".

"_Have you been stopping my letters?_"

Jumping out of Harry's reach before he could even _think_ about grabbing for the elf, Dobby reached into his pillowcase and pulled out a thick wad of envelopes. "Dobby has them here, sir," the elf admitted cautiously, "Harry Potter mustn't be angry. Dobby hoped, if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him that Harry Potter might now want to go back to school, sir".

Harry wasn't listening though; instead he lunged forward and forced a startled yelp to escape Dobby's mouth as the elf ducked away and out of reach. "Give them back before _I_ slam your head in the oven door," he threatened darkly, stepping forward and fixing his best Snape-taught glare on the elf that shrank back in fear.

"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. As, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!" the house elf insisted, Harry's eyes narrowing as Dobby started edging towards the door.

"No," Harry said angrily, "Now give me my friends' letters!"

"Then Harry Potter has given Dobby no choice," the elf said sadly, flailing his arms wildly with a sudden scream, making Harry jerk back in shock before blinking as his bedroom door bounced shut after the fleeing thief.

Mouth dry as his stomach twisted, Harry sprang after the insane house elf, using all his knowledge of the house's creaky spots as he chased Dobby down the stairs. Skidding into the kitchen and automatically pulling himself back into the doorway so he wasn't seen through the door to the living room, Harry started looking around for the house elf, peering around the best he could for a pair of huge ears with the eyes to match.

That's when he saw it, Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, a mountain of cream and cake.

Floating.

Following the barely visible glistening lights to the house elf crouched on the cupboard in the far corner of the kitchen; Harry swallowed and shook his head desperately. "No... _please_... they'll kill me," he whispered, "_Please_".

"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school".

"Dobby..." he pleaded.

"_Say it_, sir".

Staring at the house elf, Harry could only shrug weakly. "I can't".

Dobby let out a dramatic yet tragic sigh. "Then Dobby must do this, sir, for Harry Potter's greater good," the elf declared, snapping his fingers loudly and making the cake jerk sharply, before beginning the slow trek towards the living room.

A strangled whine escaping from his lips as he watched it move, Harry darted forward and reached for the pudding, flinching as Dobby made it rise up out of his reach. Sending the stubborn house elf a pleading look, Harry reached for the pudding again, watching as instead of slowing it sped up instead.

_No_! He couldn't let this happen, he'd be lucky to leave his room in time for Hogwarts if Dobby did this to him – which was likely the house elf's plan all along. He could feel a spark of desperation building up inside him as the cake finally crossed the threshold of the living room, catching the look on his Aunt's face as she just happened to glance past the Mason's and see him. _No_! He wasn't going to let this happen, reaching for the pudding again, Harry willed for his magic to rise up and stop Dobby from ending his life through pudding.

And then the cake stopped.

Biting back a gasp of shock as he felt something tightening in his raised arms, like a muscle straining to hold the cake in place, Harry exchanged a terrified look with his Aunt who subtly tried to making a 'shooing' motion with her hand.

"So Mr Mason!" she blurted as the man turned to follow her gesture, "Do tell me that story about the American plumber, Vernon kept chuckling about it for weeks!"

Taking an uneasy step back and feeling the pressure in his arms building as the cake moved back with him, Harry kept his attention locked on the pudding as he slowly edged back into the main room, grateful for his Aunt's quick distraction as he almost bumped into the doorway. He didn't know _how_ he was doing this, but he wasn't going to freak out about it until it was over, maybe then he'd have a chance to explain what happened to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon – who would be so glad to have made that deal that they wouldn't kill him and bury his body under the shed in the backyard.

"_GGGAAAAHHH!"_

Yelping as a Dobby-sized body slammed into his back following a Dobby-sounding war cry, Harry felt his concentration snapping and the power withdrawing from his arms, the pudding splatting all over the ground as small hands curled into his hair and started pulling viciously.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter!" the house elf apologised shrilly as Dobby started smacking every inch of Harry's head that he could reach. "Harry Potter has left Dobby with no choice!"

Forgetting for just a moment where they were, Harry flailed to get Dobby off of his back, stumbling closer to the wall so he could slam the squeaking house elf against it roughly. Blinking tears of pain from his eyes as he managed to reach behind him at the right angle to grip Dobby's pillowcase, Harry tore the elf from his back and shoved him away, the house elf looking utterly insane as he let out another war cry and charged him again.

Raising his hands defensively again, Harry could only watch in a mixture of horror and amazement as the power in his chest lashed out again, feeling tingles rolling down his arms and into his hands moments before Dobby ran straight into an invisible wall and was launched backwards off his feet and _into_ Aunt Petunia's precious glass cabinet with a flash of light and the sound of shattering fine china. The house elf not even hesitating to launch himself to his feet and charge Harry again, the dark-haired wizard could only watch in shock and a little bit of awe as Dobby slammed into the invisible wall again and screamed, pounding his fists on it wildly.

"That's quite enough out of you".

Mouth falling open as the sound of someone snapping their fingers cut through Dobby's tantrum-like screams, Harry stared as the house-elf let out a startled squeak seconds before freezing – _literally freezing_ – into a house elf shaped block of ice.

Head turning slowly as his arms dropped to his sides, Harry stared at Mrs Mason as the woman cleared her throat and smoothed down her dress. "I do apologise for that," she told her husband as a faint blush tinged her cheeks, "Lord knows I can't handle screaming children, and that _thing_ was close enough".

Hunching in on himself as he finally noticed the way Uncle Vernon's fury-filled eyes were locked on Harry with the clear intent to either kill or seriously maim, Harry briefly wondered if there was any way for him to replicate his accidental magic later. Something told him that he'd really need whatever kind of shielding spell he'd just managed to cast for when Mr and Mrs Mason left and it was just Harry and the Dursleys alone.

"Get out of my house".

Watching nervously as Mrs Mason slowly turned to raise an eyebrow at the red-faced Uncle Vernon, Harry shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at his hands. He'd raise his hands and wish if Uncle Vernon attacked him, if that didn't recreate the shielding spell then he'd brush it off as accidental magic, if he could do it again then he would.

"Excuse me?" Mrs Mason asked calmly, Mr Mason dropping his face into his palm and shaking his head with a groan. "What did you just say?"

"I said get out of my house, you _freak_!" Uncle Vernon snapped, puffing his chest out to make himself look bigger (he only managed to look bloated instead). "I don't want none of your kind anywhere near here!"

"Does your 'Uncle' often speak to you like this?"

Blinking in shock as Mrs Mason suddenly turned and started addressing him, Harry froze for a moment before nodding shyly, ignoring the warning look on his Uncle's face as he stared at Mrs Mason. Was she a witch too? Was that how she managed to freeze Dobby like that? Would _he_ be able to use magic like that one day?

"I SAID GET OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared, taking a step forward only to cower away as Mrs Mason's hand snapped up to aim at him.

"You know what, Mr Dursley, I think we shall. Edward, start the car," Mrs Mason ordered, Harry already flinching at the promised 'punishment' coming his way. "And you, young man, what's your name?"

"Ha- Harry," he mumbled nervously, "Harry Potter, Ma'am".

"Well then Harry, how about you show me to your room and we'll pack your things," Mrs Mason declared, turning to send a dark warning glare in Vernon's direction when he spluttered. "I will _not_ leave such a kind young mutant in a hellhole like this," she said with a sniff as her husband obediently gathered their things and left the house without another word, "It's just _asking_ for a terrorist to be made, if you ask me".

"We didn't".

Mrs Mason turning to glare Aunt Petunia into submission, Harry stared at the woman in shock, and dare he say it, a little bit of hope. They were taking him away from the Dursleys? But what if someone from Hogwarts found out? Professor Dumbledore had been _very_ clear when he said that Harry had to stay at the Dursley's, no exceptions. What if the Headmaster came and brought him back here? What if those 'blood wards' collapsed and the Dursleys were hurt because of him? What if- wait… why did he _care_ if something bad happened to the Dursleys? In fact, he hoped something bad _did_ happen to them, nobody deserved it more than them, after all.

"Come now, Harry, go pack up your things, we'll be leaving soon," Mrs Mason said calmly, making Harry jump and quickly turn to hurry out of the room, not giving the house elf ice sculpture another look as he hurried up to his bedroom and started gathering what little things he wanted to bring with him that weren't already in his trunk downstairs.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he asked hesitantly when he finished dragging his backpack downstairs to where Mrs Mason was staring the Dursleys down silently. "Most of my things are under the stairs, in the cupboard. And I don't have a key".

Mrs Mason's glare darkened as she let out an annoyed sound, rising to her feet and following Harry out into the hallway, the woman barely giving the caged Hedwig a second glance as she reached out to hold the cupboard lock. With a loud _snap_ Mrs Mason had torn off the frozen solid lock and had thrown it to the side, eyeing Hedwig suspiciously as she stepped away and cautiously reached out to freeze and break that lock too.

"I'll not be having that _thing_ in my house," Mrs Mason said warningly, jerking her head towards Hedwig in disgust. "She can stay in your room and fly around outside, but she doesn't enter the rest of the house".

"Yes Ma'am," Harry agreed immediately, ignoring Hedwig's betrayed look as he bobbed his head quickly. He didn't like it, but it was better than what was happening to Hedwig now, so he was willing to make the sacrifice if it meant he got to keep her.

"Now. Say goodbye, Harry, you won't be coming back," Mrs Mason decreed, picking up Harry's backpack and heading for the front door, leaving Harry to release Hedwig and drag his trunk after her.

Watching as his owl waited for Mrs Mason to reach the car before flying out of the house (Hedwig had always been a fast learner), Harry paused in the doorway and looked back at the Dursleys who were all gathered around the door to the kitchen watching him leave in excitement. He didn't want to say goodbye, and most of the things he _did_ want to say were very rude and he didn't doubt Mrs Mason would box him around the ears for saying them if she heard, so instead of saying goodbye Harry settled for something equally as rude that he knew Mrs Mason wouldn't hear.

He flipped them off.

* * *

**Masons**

* * *

**So this idea isn't really based off any challenges of mine, I'm sure it could count as a 'Homo Superior' response if I wanted it too but something tells me that if I were to continue this it wouldn't match with the challenge at all.**


	99. Primal

**Primal –** Harry Potter/Buffy the Vampire Slayer

* * *

The wind whistling through the dark trees, the almost soundless flapping of wings filled the air, the deadly assassin soaring above the graveyard lit only by the full moon. Swooping down suddenly, the owl's talons extended to snatch up the mouse its eyes had been following for ages, only for an ear-splitting _crack_ to knock the startled animal off-course.

Catching her balance quickly, the beautiful red-haired woman looked around slowly and bit back a sigh at the morbid atmosphere surrounding her, brushing down the front of her blouse almost lazily.

Shivering slightly at the encompassing dark energies permeating the very air, emerald green eyes flicked around the graveyard cautiously. Lily Potter touched a hand to her wand within its holster for security as she realised exactly where her portkey had taken her.

"A Hellmouth," she exhaled slowly, slipping her portkey pendant into her pocket, "Lovely".

Pushing aside the curious part of her mind that wanted to take a few samples of the only Hellmouth she'd likely ever get to see, Lily reached down her shirt to pull out her husband's pocket watch, flicking it open to inspect the three hands inside. Taking a moment to orientate herself towards the only picture-less hand, Lily froze as she noticed the second hand that was pointing in the same direction, instead of towards England like it was supposed to be.

Eyes narrowing, Lily started forward at a brisk pace, her mind effortlessly adding her troublesome son's presence into the night's game plan. First; she'd hunt down her son and send him packing back to England with ringing ears and a stinging butt, then she'd hunt down her _other_ son.

And then, when she got back to England, she'd hex the crap out of the Albus Dumbledore shaped target dummy she had in the cellar. Sometimes she just needed to take her anger out on a likeness of the man that had torn her family apart.

As she stepped through the graveyard's gate and onto the pathway, she glanced down at the watch face again and changed directions, letting her mind wander as she walked.

It had been twelve years since she'd woken from the coma Lord Voldemort had cursed her and her husband into. Twelve years since she'd discovered that her husband was still trapped in his own coma, and that her children weren't with Sirius, who was in Azkaban. Twelve years since she'd threatened Albus at wand point into confessing where he'd stolen her children away to.

Twelve years since she found out that her own sister had abused her nephews, until muggle social services had taken them away.

And now she was in America, on the trail of her eldest son, who'd 'mysteriously' vanished from the hands of the muggle government (Thanks to Albus Bloody Dumbledore, no doubt) only to pop up on the American Ministry of Magic's radar recently. She didn't care if it were customary (if unspoken of) to send squib children to America to get them away from their magical relatives. She and James had already sworn to treat their eldest the same way they treated their younger magical son. And to discover that Harry had been sent away by Albus (who one would think would be more sympathetic to the plight of squibs; what with his sister) had been enough to cause her magic to lash out and shatter Albus' prized 'indestructible' desk.

The sound of a car's horn pulled her from her thoughts, drawing her attention down the street to where a car had stopped suddenly, and the driver was honking the horn at the two men standing in the middle of the street. Eyes flicking down to the watch for comfort, Lily frowned slightly as she realised that one of the hands was aiming towards the car. A loud cracking noise made her head snap up in time to see one of the men pulling his foot back just as the second one lashed out to kick the car as well. Picking up her speed, Lily started towards the car as the driver tooted again before driving around the two men, her watch still aiming towards the now laughing men.

As one the men's' laughter stopped, and their heads snapped around to stare in her direction, a cold breeze picking at Lily's bare arms as she kept her chin up and kept walking. The two men exchanging a silent look, Lily mentally cursed as they turned and vanished down a side street, making her fingers brush against her wand holster by instinct.

According to James' watch, Harry was one of the men - the boys - who'd just been standing there… also her youngest son, Michael, was apparently in the direction Harry and his friend had just headed off in.

Speeding up again, Lily started jogging after the boys, rounding the corner in time to see the two boys approaching a building identifiable by the neon sight as _'Bronze'_. That… that looked like one of those clubs… what was her son… both of them… doing in a muggle club? She was _so_ going to ground Michael the moment she found him, Boy-Who-Lived or not.

Quickly catching up to her son, Lily stepped into _'Bronze' _and started looking around, her 'mother senses' latching onto the head of black messy hair at one of the tables, flanked by a bright red head and a head full of bushy hair. Striding over without hesitation, Lily pulled a fourth chair over to the table and slid into it. "I'll punish you three when we get home," she said in way of greeting, "For now, where's Harry?"

"Mum! Uh, Harry? Harry who?" Michael blurted, looking incredibly guilty as Hermione flushed and Ron tried to sink under the table. "Oh! _That_ Harry," her son continued when Lily raised an eyebrow at him, "He's there".

Following her youngest son's finger, Lily laid eyes on another table of four. This table was host to a nervous looking girl with hair red enough to rival Ronald's, a beautiful looking blonde girl, and two tall dark-haired teenage boys that were grinning at something that had been said.

Flicking her wand twice, Lily first cast a silencing charm around their table so they could speak without being overheard, she then cast a listening charm on her son's table and linked it to the napkin holder on her own table.

"_What?_" the boy's voice asked awkwardly.

"_What's up with you?_" came the blonde girl's reply, the four magic-users watching the other table to try link the voice to the person.

"_Is something wrong? Did __**I**__ do something wrong?_" asked the red-haired girl.

At that the other boy snorted, shaking his head as he barked out a laugh, bright green eyes visible from across the club's floor. "_Blasphemy!_" he exclaimed, "_Crazy talk, Willow_".

"_Exactly, what could you possibly do?_" the other boy agreed. "_We're just… restless_".

"_We could go to the ice-cream place?_" Willow offered hopefully.

"_What a brilliant idea!_" the boy Lily was certain was her son declared happily, "_Maybe later though_" he added as Lily saw his eyes flick to the other boy.

"_Yeah_," the boy confirmed, nodding slowly as he glanced around. "_I like it here_".

"_Never thought I'd hear you turn down ice-cream Harry_" the blonde girl said slowly, exchanging a look with the red-head.

"_There are more important things in life than ice-cream_," her son replied casually, not looking at either girl as he looked around the club suspiciously, "_Right Xan?_"

'Xan' snorted and shook his head, before leaning in to sniff the blonde's hair with a confused expression.

"_Okay, now what?_" the girl blurted, looking both disturbed and hesitant.

"_You took a bath,_" 'Xan' explained simply, pulling a face, still without looking down at her.

"_Yeah. I often do. I'm actually known for it,_" the blonde snapped, the look she sent Willow ordering her to 'do something'.

"_Really?_" Harry interrupted, blinking at her in surprise, "_I always thought you smelt a little ripe. Was that just me?_"

"_Nope,_" Xan denied instantly to the annoyance of the blonde, "_She usually smells funny_".

"_Right. Well I __**was**__ going to give you both the weird behaviour award,_" the blonde began in an offended tone of voice, "_But now I'm going to kick your-_" she was cut off as both boy's heads snapped around to stare at the club's entrance.

Lily's eyes flicked from where she was studying her son to the door as a group of four teenagers walked in, their own heads snapping around to stare towards her son's table. "_Oh great! It's the winged monkeys,_" the blonde's voice declared sarcastically, Lily looking at her son in time to see both his and Xan's eyes glowing a bright violent green. As she watched, the four teenagers stalked over to her son's table, pausing in front of it for a moment with their eyes locked on Harry and Xan.

A faint rumbling came from the napkin holder in the middle of the table, Lily easily recognising it as a growl as she saw Xan's lip curl up to bare his teeth at the four teens.

Almost instantly, they looked away and moved away from the table, Xan and Harry never taking their eyes off the four of them as they bullied some 'nerds' away from their table and claimed it as their own, leaving Harry and Xan chuckling under their breaths as they turned back to their table.

"_What?_" Harry asked defensively when they saw the girls were glaring at them.

"_The kid's fat,_" Xan explained slowly to the annoyed looking girls.

"_Like a zeppelin?_" Harry clarified quickly, "_No_?"

* * *

**PRIMAL**

* * *

**So I don't think this one is actually based off any challenges, but I found it while searching through my old USB drive and after quickly patching it up I've decided to post it anyway.**


	100. Gifted

**Gifted** – Harry Potter.

* * *

As to be expected of the location and the beautiful clear sky above, the playground was filled with the sound of children screaming and laughing, the teachers on duty watching with small smiles as they patrolled and watched their students.

The watching teachers were of no use to one student however, who was too busy running to be able to stop and notice the day's beauty, seemingly invisible to the uncaring adult's eyes as he fled the wrath of his obese cousin and his flunkies. He wasn't so sure of what he had done to deserve today's beating, but what Harry Potter _did_ know was that he wasn't just going to stand there and take it when he had a chance to escape.

Darting between two conversing teachers without either of them batting an eye, Harry dove for the jungle gym, using his smaller size and faster speed to weave in and out of the other students and obstacles in his way. Trying to lose himself in the crowd of kids playing tag, he followed the map he'd built up over his years at Little Whinging Elementary and shot off towards the passage between the cafeteria and the science block as Dudley and his gang hopefully got lost in the other students.

Wincing when he heard a furious "THERE HE IS! GET HIM!" echoing from behind him, Harry just pushed himself closer and closer to his limit, speeding up and ducking into the alley seconds later. Following years of experience, he charged at the dumpster and ran up the side, grunting as his chest slammed into the metal as he heaved himself up and over the edge.

Freezing when he heard the fastest of his cousin's henchmen running into the passage, Harry lay still on garbage bags filled with what smelt like the leftover paint from the art classroom, listening as more feet joined Pier Polkiss' in searching for him. Closing his eyes and praying as someone bumped against the side of the dumpster, Harry cringed at some of the descriptions the gang was muttering about what they'd do to him when they caught him. Muffling a sigh of relief as he finally heard Dudley declare that the 'freak' must have escaped, he allowed himself to relax as he listened to their footsteps shuffling away from the alley.

"Wait".

Eyes snapping back open as Gordon James' voice echoed through the passage, Harry felt dread gripping his chest as slow footsteps made their way over to the dumpster. He was going to be found, he just knew he was going to be found and beaten to a pulp as Gordon tried to clamber up the side of the dumpster, the blond boy almost as a fat as Harry's cousin. He didn't want to be found, Harry never wanted to have to run again, and he most certainly didn't want to be beaten to a pulp.

Clamping his eyes shut as fingers appeared at the top of the dumpster, Gordon finally getting hold of the side, Harry wished he was anywhere but there, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his eyes flew open, something in his chest just _snapping_.

And then Harry was gone, staring up at the sky instead of Gordon's face, his head resting comfortably on the pleasantly warm tiles of the cafeteria roof.

Listening to the sound of Gordon dismissing the dumpster and walking away just mere feet below him, Harry lay there stiffly with wide eyes, relief flooding him as he realised he had escaped, and fear filling as he realised _how_.

He had, no matter how impossible it sounded, teleported.

His first thought being that his Uncle Vernon was right in calling him 'Freak', Harry dismissed it almost instantly as shame bubbled in his chest. He'd never really believed his Uncle when he called Harry that, and now that he thought he knew why, he still didn't want to do so. Uncle Vernon was hardly the most honest person Harry knew after all, the only person that Harry knew who lied more than his Uncle was Dudley, and he had learned from the best.

Sitting up cautiously when the sounds of Dudley and his lackies faded into the distance, Harry looked around carefully and crawled over to the chimney, ducking behind it so he wasn't seen by anyone looking at the roof.

How had he done _that_ though? Harry was used to odd things happening around him, but this definitely took the cake, there was a difference between changing a substitute teacher's hair blue and moving between two places magically after all. Maybe it w- magically… magically. Uncle Vernon had always told him that magic didn't exist, but what if it did? What if that was how he could teleport? And was 'teleportation' even the right word for it? He never really managed to understand the brief flashes of TV he caught when he was cleaning in the living room as Dudley was watching TV.

And more importantly, could he do it again?

Peering around the chimney to make sure that Dudley and his 'friends' were gone, Harry jerked his head back as he met the eyes of his year's teacher Mrs Johnson.

No time like the present to find out.

"_HARRY POTTER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?"_

Clamping his eyes shut and concentrating, Harry wished he was somewhere else, hoping and begging for the strange _power_ he had to kick in and take him somewhere else. Maybe the jungle gym, he could pretend he'd been sitting there the whole time.

And then it did.

With a sudden loss of breath and a strange sensation in his chest, Harry was sitting against the side of the jungle gym, blinking in shock for a moment before he was hurrying to push himself up to his feet.

"_HARRY POTTER! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"_

"Ma'am?"

Trying to look as innocent as he could, Harry shuffled past the gathered students who were watching the roof expectantly, the Mrs Johnson's head snapping around to stare at him in shock. Watching with baited breath as the woman looked between him and the roof in shock, he half expected someone to point at him and start screaming 'Freak!' as they connected the dots and realised what he'd done. But nobody did, instead Harry found Mrs Johnson turning to him with a frown.

"Where were you, Mr Potter?" the woman demanded suspiciously.

"I was sitting by the jungle gym, Ma'am," Harry lied politely, not hiding his confusion as he peered past her to the roof.

"You weren't on the roof?" Mrs Johnson questioned.

"No Ma'am?"

Mrs Johnson let out a slow humming noise as Harry glanced around at the confused kids who were beginning to file away as they lost interest. "Come with me, Mr Potter," the woman finally instructed, beginning to head back towards the main school building, making Harry run to catch up with her long legged strides.

"Are you _absolutely_ certain that you weren't on the roof, Mr Potter? Mrs Johnson asked as he followed her into the classroom. "You're not going to get in trouble if you were".

"Im sure, Mrs Johnson," Harry insisted, twisting into a look that he hoped screamed annoyed. "I was sitting on the jungle gym watching the clouds".

The woman stared at him for a moment before nodding, seemingly accepting his story as the truth. "Very well, Mr Potter, I apologise for shouting at you," she said simply, gesturing to a desk in the front row, "Now why don't you go take a seat and wait, lunch is almost over anyway".

"Yes Ma'am," Harry agreed obediently hurrying to take a seat so Mrs Johnson didn't get suspicious or change her mind.

He'd never lied to a teacher before, and he hardly ever lied to people that weren't the Dursleys. And even then most of the 'lies' he told the Dursleys were actually the truth, only just a truth that contradicted whatever their 'sweet innocent Dudley' told them. But, as Harry looked down at his hands and remembered the feeling of 'teleporting' and getting away with breaking the rules through lying, he promised himself that he'd be lying a lot more in the future if it helped keep him out of trouble.

And the teleporting? If he could learn to control that and keep it hidden from the Dursleys, then he'd never get in trouble again.

* * *

**GIFTED**

* * *

"DAD! DAD! HARRY'S GOT SOMETHING!"

Harry, who had been half-way through unfolding his letter, was left staring at thin air as Uncle Vernon tore it roughly from his hands.

"Give it back! That's mine!" Harry demanded, turning to scowl at his Uncle who just laughed as he unfolded the letter with one hand and used the other to scoop some egg onto his fork.

"Don't be ridiculous boy," Uncle Vernon dismissed, "Who would be writing to _you_?"

Harry glared as the egg missed his Uncle's mouth and fell down to splat across the fat man's shirt, Uncle Vernon too busy staring at the letter in horror, his face going from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights and then going on into the realm of bone or paper white.

"P-P-Petunia!"

Holding the letter out to Harry's Aunt with a shaking hand, Uncle Vernon held Dudley back with his other hand, preventing the boy from snatching the letter from his mother.

"Oh my goodness! Vernon! What do we do?" Aunt Petunia blurted after glancing at the letter, turning just as pale as her husband, looking like a stiff wind would make her pass out in a heartbeat.

"I want to read that letter!" Dudley shouted angrily, smashing his Smeltings stick down across half the plates on the table, not used to being denied anything he wanted from anyway.

As he stared at the mess erupting before him, Harry realised the Dursley's biggest mistake. They'd forgotten about him – something that usually worked in his favour – and now he could get _his_ letter back. Backing away from the table and eyeing the space between him and the letter his Aunt was holding away from her body like it was about to burst into flames and burn her, Harry paused for a moment to smirk before launching himself forward.

"I WANT TO READ IT NOW!" Dudley demanded loudly, raising his Smeltings stick and taking aim at his father who was still holding him back with one hand.

Vaulting up onto the table, Harry dove for his letter, snatching it out of his screaming Aunt's hands and vanishing beneath the distracted Uncle Vernon's reaching hand before he hit the ground.

Ignoring the way his Aunt shrieked as he reappeared near the fireplace without a soft, Harry ripped his letter open and read it eagerly, shifting and vanishing again as his Uncle leapt to his feet and charged towards him. Eyes devouring the words, Harry felt something clicking into place from where he was now crouching down behind the kitchen bench, hiding from his cursing Uncle, swaying Aunt and fake-sobbing Dudley.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class. Grand Sorcerer. Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

He was a witch. That was how he could teleport around, it had to be, it was the only thing that made any sense. Either that or he was a wizard, a sorcerer or a warlock, whichever term they seemed to use the most, the letter was rather vague about that.

Actually, the letter was rather vague about _everything_.

"Magic is real".

Staring at his Aunt as he stood up from behind the bench, ignoring the way she screamed and knocked over a pot plant beside her, Harry moved around the bench to glare at her properly.

"Magic is real, you lied to me!" he yelled. Not that it really mattered, Harry had been lying to her about his 'gift' for almost a full year, after all. But this was different, the Dursleys had _abused_ him because he was a 'freak' when they knew the truth the entire time.

"How dare you use that freakishness in this house!" Uncle Vernon gasped out as he barrelled back into the room from where he'd been searching for Harry in the hallway.

Teleporting away from his Uncle with a blink of his eyes, Harry reappeared on the other side of the room again, watching as Uncle Vernon overbalanced into thin air and slammed head first into the kitchen cabinets, falling unmoving to the ground. Uncaring of his Aunt's squawk in horror, Harry teleported back to the kitchen, standing between her and her husband with a dark look on his face.

"You knew," he accused.

"Knew? Of _course_ we knew!" Aunt Petunia spat, eyes flicking behind Harry to the unconscious form of her husband. "How could you be anything but, with my blasted sister being what she was? Oh she got a letter just like _that_ she did, disappeared off to that – that _madhouse_. Came back every holiday with pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats and rats into goblets! I saw her for what she was, a _freak_, but I was the only one, our parents were so _proud_ to have a witch in the family. Blind-sighted _fools_," she snarled, her face going red as her eyes turned wild, looking like she'd been waiting to say this for years.

"And then she met that _freak_ of a husband of hers, and had you! Oh I knew, yes I _knew_," Petunia agreed with herself, "That you would be just as freakish and _unnatural_ as they-"

Cutting his Aunt off by teleporting in front of her, Harry raised the letter in his hands, showing her the list of things he'd needed to attend the 'Mad house'.

"Do you know where I can get these things?" he demanded, Aunt Petunia sneering at him but nodding fearfully all the same. "Good. Go get your purse, _Auntie_, we're going shopping".


	101. Forgotten

**Chimera – **Harry Potter/Charmed.

The Modern Sorcerer's **Memories** challenge.

* * *

As a loud rapping echoed through the smallest bedroom of number four Privet Drive, the room's only inhabitant shifted slowly where he was splayed across his desk, emerald eyes slowly forcing themselves open at the noise.

Groaning slightly as the door was thrown open, Harry Potter pushed himself up off his desk with a muffled hiss, pain stabbing up his side as he turned to blink tiredly at his Aunt in confusion.

"Oh _finally_ back are you?" Aunt Petunia demanded, her lips pursing into a thin line as she eyed Harry in disgust.

"I… I never went anywhere," Harry denied, rubbing his forehead as a headache made itself known.

"Never went anywhere? You were gone for _two days_!" the woman exclaimed unhappily as she stomped over and slapped a piece of paper and a pen down in front of him. "For a moment I thought that I'd have your lot breaking down my door asking where you were, now tell them you're fine and that we're feeding you alright".

"I'm not fine, and you're not feeding me alright," Harry countered automatically, pushing past the headache and scowling at his Aunt who just sneered at him in response.

"I'll bring your dinner up when it's ready," Petunia promised haltingly, sounding miserable for having to be polite to him, "And I don't know what you did to your head while you were gone," she added defensively.

"But I wasn't gone," Harry argued, scribbling down a basic 'I'm alive' note for the Order of the Phoenix that Petunia snatched from his hands immediately. "One minute I was…" faltering as he looked around his bedroom in confusion, Harry turned to see his Aunt impatiently holding the letter out for Hedwig to take. "It's fine Hedwig, you can take it," he assured the owl who barely missed Petunia's fingers with her sharp talons, "The last thing I remember was the car as Uncle Vernon drove us here," he confessed slowly.

Aunt Petunia paused mid-stride and shot him a startled look. "You got home and stomped up to your room, not even a 'Hello'," she began slowly, edging closer to the door with every word. "That night I gave you some money to go out to a diner while Vernon and I took Dudley to a school dinner at Smeltings. That was the last I saw of you until this morning where you shot upstairs like something was chasing you. Naturally I got Dudley out of the house in case more of those _dementors_ showed up, and when we got back you were sleeping across your desk. That's all I know".

"Thank you," Harry mumbled as Petunia sniffed and left his room, hand coming up to rub his forehead again.

What was wrong with him? Had he _really_ missed out on two days like that? And what could cause what was shaping up to be a huge black space in his memories? He wasn't being possessed was he? Because he remembered the way Ginny had described her black outs at the hands of Tom Riddles' diary, and even though Professor Dumbledore had assured him that Voldemort wouldn't dare risk possessing him again, it was enough of a valid fear that made Harry wish he'd told Hedwig to wait.

Slowly standing up, biting back a pained noise as he did so, Harry lifted his shirt carefully and flinched at the massive red burn on his side, almost looking like someone had held a torch (the burning fire kind, not the battery-powered ones) against his skin. Reaching down to touch it cautiously, he flinched at the stab of pain, wondering if he was allowed to mix together a simple burn slave during the summer or if that counted as underage magic.

Dropping his shirt as footsteps sounded on the stairway, Harry turned to the door in time to see Aunt Petunia stalking into his room with a curiously blank expression. "Don't say we don't do anything for you," she said bluntly as she set the plate in her hands down on her desk, "This meat was expensive".

Rolling his eyes at his Aunt's frugality when it came to him, Harry waited for her to leave before nervously sitting back down, flinching as his elbow brushed against his side. Stomach rumbling as he looked over the healthy scooping of mashed potatoes and the still steaming chicken drumsticks, Harry grinned sheepishly to himself when his stomach rumbled, shifting the plate closer to him slightly and freezing at the sight of something beneath it.

Hesitantly pulling the square out from under his plate and staring down at the written _"REMEMBER"_ scrawled across it, Harry glanced over at the door. Did his Aunt leave this there? Or had this been sitting here waiting for him before and he just hadn't noticed it? Turning the napkin over, Harry blinked at the simple branding and the phone number written in tight neat numbers beneath it labelled _"T.M"_.

Grabbing the napkin and darting for the door, Harry burst into the kitchen after vaulting over the staircase without a care in the world. "Where's 'Treats'?" he blurted, ignoring the looks on the Dursleys' faces as he interrupted their meal, "Treats?" he repeated as he moved forward to show them the napkin, "A café".

"Do I bloody well look like I know?" Uncle Vernon demanded, holding a huge chunk of chicken in his hands and glaring at Harry over it like a dog getting territorial over his bone. "Be gone boy and let us eat in peace!"

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry pressed, dismissing his Uncle and turning to show her the napkin properly.

When neither his Aunt nor his cousin stopped to even look at the napkin, Harry just stared down at the phone number written on it, wondering if he should risk his Uncle's wrath by calling it.

He wasn't going to lie, that tight feeling in his stomach wasn't just hunger and lingering tenseness from the burn on his side. Oh no… that feeling was fear, plain and simple. Harry couldn't deny that not remembering the past two days was _terrifying_, and if he had the chance to figure out what happened then he wasn't going to just let it pass him by. What if it had been Death Eaters or something? What if he'd learned something important and he'd been obliviated to stop him from telling other people? What if something bad happened and he was the only person who knew. What if _he_ had done something and obliviated himself?

Turning on his heel and heading for the door, trying not to lose himself in thoughts of fear, Harry froze as his Aunt's voice rang out suddenly.

"Wait".

Glancing over his shoulder at Aunt Petunia hopefully, Harry watched as she stared down at her plate and stubbornly refused to look up at her glaring husband.

"Surbiton Station," Petunia admitted slowly, using her fork to move things around on her plate distractedly. "It's a small little café, quaint even. I think I recall Mrs Gallacher from down the street – that _coloured_ woman – talking about her daughter getting a position as a waitress there. It's somewhere on Surbiton Station, I don't know where though".

"Thank you," Harry exhaled when it became obvious she wasn't going to say anything else. "Thank you".

"Oh don't thank me," Petunia snapped with a guilty sniff, "It's a cheap little place, here's me hoping you'll spend most nights eating there instead of bothering me to cook for you".

Message received, Aunt Petunia, message received loud and clear.

Barely pausing to detour upstairs to grab his wand, Harry was heading out the door minutes later. His Aunt seemed to believe that he'd gone to this 'Treats' place the other night to eat when they were at Smeltings, that was good enough of a reason for Harry to go check it out just in case. Once again he wished he hadn't sent Hedwig off already, he'd have preferred to have back-up for when he went after whatever caused his memory loss, but since he had no choice at the moment he'd just have to hope they weren't expecting him to come back.

Running through countless scenarios in his head for when he got there, it took Harry half the time he thought (hoped) it would to reach the right platform, glancing around nervously before approaching the café with the cheerful neon sign declaring _'Treats'_ hanging above the door. He'd been here before, just walking towards the small café was enough to trigger some kind of recognition in the back of his mind.

From the way the 'S' in the sign flickered between off and on every two seconds, to the blond-haired boy sitting at the counter talking to the dark-skinned girl standing behind it, Harry knew he had _definitely_ been here before, even if he didn't remember anything else.

Pretending not to notice the way the two teenagers near the counter went silent as Harry stepped into the café, Harry looked around curiously as the girl vanished into the backroom and the boy slid off the stool.

_Crack_.

Cursing as he jerked away from the blond's fist, Harry clutched at his aching arm and fought the urge to reach for his wand as the boy glared at him.

"That, is for not calling me," the teenager declared with a scowl, clearly forcing himself to lower his arm as he turned and stomped over to a random table and threw himself down with an expectant look Harry's way.

"Do… do I know you?" Harry blurted awkwardly, something telling him that he did.

The boy shot him another annoyed look, "No, I just go around vanquishing demons with complete strangers," he hissed darkly, glancing over his shoulder towards the counter as he lowered his voice. "Look, I'm not even that mad you didn't call, Harry" he assured him, "I figured something came up. But did you _have_ to wait two days before showing up here again? I thought they'd got you first!"

"_Who_ got me first?" Harry pressed, stumbling forward to sit opposite the boy, "The demons? And who are you? Is _this_ you?" he asked, pulling the napkin from his pocket and slapping it down between them.

"'T.M? Yeah, Tyler Michaels," the boy re-introduced with a confused look, "What's wrong with you? You're acting like-"

"Like I don't remember?" Harry interrupted, flipping the napkin over to reveal the word written there. "Because I don't," he admitted nervously, "I remember getting back from Ho- school, and then next thing I know I'm waking up in my bedroom with that, a _massive_ burn, and an Aunt whose pissed off that I apparently went missing for two days".

Tyler just stared at Harry for a moment, looking between the messy _'Remember'_ and his face with a guarded look in his eyes. "What's Quidditch?" he demanded finally, "And why do you love it so much? And yes, I know what it is," Tyler added quickly, "But I'm just making sure _you_ do".

Blinking dumbly at the other boy, it took Harry a moment to realise Tyler was making sure it was really him, just like the pamphlets the Ministry of Magic were putting out to help combat the Death Eaters. (Because pieces of paper would really stop Voldemort).

"Uh, Quidditch is a game played on broomsticks," he explained after making sure they were alone, "I'm on one of the House teams back at my school. And I love it so much because my Dad used to play, it makes me feel closer to him".

Tyler still looked a little suspicious but he relaxed back into his chair, "You really don't remember?" he asked hesitantly. When Harry shook his head, the blond just let out a sharp breath and his relaxed posture just slumped in on itself. "I wouldn't know how to begin to explain".

"Try. _Please_," Harry begged, desperate to figure everything out.

Tyler stared at him for a moment before shrugging, "Long story short?"

"Sure".

"Well, long story short," Tyler began carefully, "I'm a magical being who can manipulate fire, and you're some kind of witch who can vaporise demons – evil creatures who can _also_ manipulate fire – with a wave of your hands".

Harry blinked at the blond dumbly, "I'm a what?"


End file.
